


Famous Last Words

by whalefairyfandom12



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Cheating, Gen, Major Character Injury, Mild Smut, Phan - Freeform, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, endgame Phan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-07-28 08:02:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 22
Words: 69,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7631731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whalefairyfandom12/pseuds/whalefairyfandom12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where the last words your soulmate will say to you are written on your wrist, fearful and introverted Phil works in a bookstore. His greatest fear? The words counting down the seconds until he meet his soulmate, someone called ‘Dan.’ But it isn’t until he befriends a university student that he nicknames ‘Bear’ that Phil realizes that surviving through fear isn’t the same as living.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote Famous Last Words almost two years ago, and due to popular request have started to post some of the chapters on here. I might rewrite this at some point, but I hope you enjoy it and comments/feedback are always welcome :))

     There were irrational fears, and then was Phil’s greatest fear. Heights, public speaking, failure…at first glance nothing about his phobias seemed especially unusual. Though he might consider himself to be a coward, in actuality his list of fears was shorter than most people’s. An effect of this however was that the few fears he did have were overpowering.

    Phil’s greatest fear was of the name ‘Dan.’ He was fairly sure that this particular fear stemmed from the words seemingly branded on the inside of his left wrist. 

_     Nice to meet you, Phil Lester. My name is Dan.  _

    The words were nothing out of the ordinary. Everyone Phil knew had words inked somewhere on their wrists. Each phrase was different, but it was almost impossible to find someone who wasn’t aware of the significance of the words. 

    Phil’s mum had first told him the story when he was a child. 

_ “You see those words on your wrist? Someday you’re going to meet someone who's going to tell you those words. That person is going to be your soulmate.” _

__ She had neglected to mention that those would also be the last words your soulmate ever spoke to you.

    It was the irony of the situation that this ‘Dan’s’ supposed last words were also an introduction. 

    Most people had the opportunity to at least get to know their soulmate a little before the end, but Phil wouldn’t even have a chance for that. Over before it had even began. Whether it was a mark of how biased life could be or if it was a matter that Phil was one of the least interesting people in the world he didn’t know. Either way, he lived in constant fear that one day he would meet someone named Dan only for one of them to die seconds later. 

   It wasn’t so much a fear of the name Dan as it was a fear of introductions. It was a fear of the moment when he met someone new and he had to give his name and hear theirs in return. He had no way of knowing which hello was going to be his last. 

   Finding your soulmate didn’t necessarily guarantee death, but Phil had always had an overactive imagination.

   Working in a small out of the way bookstore and living in a modest flat in London, his life was far from lavish. But it was enough to get by.

    Phil walked up the street, hoodie pulled over his head and a Starbucks cup in one hand. He stopped in front of a moderately sized storefront window. A  _ closed  _ sign was hung in the door, one of the lights still on inside. His free hand reached into his pocket, pulling out a ring of keys.

    After wrestling with the lock he made it inside, flipping the sign over so that the  _ open  _ message was showing. 

     “Its like I just left. Oh, wait, I did,” he muttered under his breath. Sometimes he felt guilty for complaining about the length of his lunch break when it was longer than most, but he was convinced that complaining was an inbred trait in humanity. He dumped his keys on the desk along with his cup, heading for the computer and logging into his email.

    Phil had just finished unpacking the newest shipment of books when  _ he _ arrived, immediately identifiable by his fringe and all black attire. While he was a long cry from Sherlock Holmes, Phil thought that he was probably a university student. Whoever he was, he had been visiting the bookstore religiously for the past month. It might have been even longer, but it had been long enough for Phil to be able to recognize him as soon as he walked in.

    “Can I help you?” Phil asked, setting aside the box and looking up.

    “Um…I’m looking for…well…actually…” the student blushed, fixing his fringe self-consciously. “Do you have any books on h-hamster breeding?”

    “Hamster breeding?” Phil repeated, raising his eyebrows slightly. “Let me check.” He opened a new tab on the computer, finding his bookmarked pages and clicking the bookstore’s website. “It might take a minute, sorry,” he added apologetically. “If desktop PCs are the dinosaurs of computers this thing is water.” As soon as the joke left his mouth he cringed. Just because he was nerd didn’t mean everyone else was.

    “Water?”

    “There’s scientific proof that-never mind.”

    “I know what proof you’re talking about,” the student said, taking Phil by surprise. “I just didn’t think that anyone else knew about it.”

     “I didn’t either.”

     A tentative smile was exchanged. The graphics finally loading, Phil typed  _ Hamster Breeding _ into the search and pressed keyword. 

     “Downstairs in our non-fiction section,” he said after a pause. “Third bookcase, second shelf down. Do you need me to help you or…”

     “Third bookcase, second shelf down, non-fiction. I think I’m fine.”

     “Good luck with your hamsters,” Phil said lamely. If punching himself was a plausible and socially acceptable option he would’ve done it. Why did everything he say have to sound so stilted and awkward?

     He had seen the student around enough to feel badly about not knowing his name, but Phil tended to avoid human interaction unless it was completely necessary. Instead, he had come up with own name.

     It had started a couple of weeks ago. Phil had been cataloguing some new books when he had happened to pass by a table where a university student was sitting engrossed in a book. Curious, Phil hadn’t been able to resist a peek at the title.

_ The House at Pooh Corner. _

    Suppressing a smile, Phil had shelved his next book, watching the student from the corner of his eye.

    The next week the same student had arrived with a suitcase and a backpack as if he’d just gotten back from a trip. Peaking out of the top of his bag was Pooh, worn and aged. 

    After that, whenever the familiar fringe appeared the only thing Phil could think was  _ Bear. _

    “Thanks,” Bear said. He turned and walked in the direction of the stairs, his hands shoved in his pockets and his head bowed. Not for the first time Phil wondered what his words were. Bear always seemed to wear long sleeves or bracelets that covered his wrists.

     While the  _ Ink and Quill  _ was a considerably smaller than a lot of other bookstores Phil could be working at, the daily influx of people sometimes stressed him out more than he’d ever care to admit. 

     Every time he said hello to another person, rang up another book, said another goodbye, he couldn’t help but wonder. Where they Dan? Had they already found their soulmate? What if they had found their soulmate while waiting in line? Were they still alive?

_ Ink and Quill  _ paid the taxes but the work was fair from engaging, resulting in too much time on his hands and too much time to think.

     Phil watched for Bear the rest of the day, but he never showed up.

     The final hour dragged on.  By the time the door slammed shut behind the final man Phil was ready to collapse with exhaustion. He let out a long breath through his teeth, allowing his eyes to close for the first time that day.

     “Hello?”

     Phil opened an eyelid to see Bear standing in front of him, shifting from foot to foot uncomfortably. His other eyelid popped open as he straightened his posture.

    “We’re closed,” Phil said obviously.

    “You never came downstairs,” Bear shrugged. “No one had come down in a while so I figured that I should come back upstairs.”

    “Did you find what you were looking for?” Phil asked.

     Bear shrugged. “A couple of things,” he answered. “I know you’re closed, but can I buy this? I promise I’ll leave afterwards.”

     The urge to tell him to come back and buy the book when they were open was tempting, and Phil opened his mouth. He made the mistake of meeting Bear’s eyes, impossibly beautiful and completely alluring. 

    “Okay,” Phil found himself saying. He stretched out a hand, and Bear handed him the book. “Have you had a hamster before?” 

     “It’s not actually a book about hamster breeding.”

     Feeling incredibly stupid, Phil flipped the book over, reading the title. “ _ Seconds _ ?”

     “It’s by the guy that wrote  _ Scott Pilgrim _ ,” Bear explained. 

     “I read  _ Scott Pilgrim, _ ” Phil said, his eyes scanning the synopsis. “I really liked it, too. I didn’t know he had released another novel. Half the time I don’t pay attention to what I’m organizing.” He gave Bear a questioning look. “What happened to your hamster breeding?”

     “I suddenly remembered why I’m adverse to breeding hamsters,” Bear said, shuddering and making a face. “I’m adverse to owning them in general actually.”

     “Really? And why’s that?” Phil had always wanted a hamster but the rent contract stated that no animals of any kind were allowed without permission.

     “It involved a hamster named Suki and a valuable lesson about the price of freedom.”

     “The price of freedom?”

     “It’s a long story. If I told you the whole thing we’d be here until morning.”

     “Are you a university student?” Phil asked, gently putting  _ Seconds _ in a bag and handing it to Bear. “I see you around here a lot.”

     “Yeah. I’m studying law but the dorm is too loud to get any work done. The guy next door is constantly playing music. Literally, every time I’m in my room no matter what time of the day it is he’s always blasting some kind of music. I wouldn’t mind it as much if it were at least  _ good _ music. But at this point its like, get some headphones for fuck’s sake. They’re not that expensive.” Bear winced, a blush coloring his cheekbones. “Sorry, you probably don’t care about my dorm situation.”

     Phil shrugged. “I don’t care. You can rant away.” He could have happily listened to Bear talk for the rest of the night except that he really was tired and any moment now Bear could decide to introduce himself. And that would ruin everything.  “I really do have to leave, though,” he said apologetically. 

     “Thanks,” Bear said quietly, the ghost of a smile flickering over his face. He grabbed his bag from Phil, beginning to move towards the door.

     “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Phil said in a vain attempt to give a slightly less awkward goodbye than he had hello. He failed abysmally. 

     Bear stopped in his tracks, turning and looking at him with a slightly larger smile. A faint dimple appeared by the crease in his cheek and there was a hint of light in his eyes that had been missing before. 

   But there was only one thing Phil knew for certain. He wanted to make Bear smile again, a real smile with his dimple showing and eyes lit up and laughing. 

    “See you then,” Bear acknowledged with a small wave. He disappeared through the door, shutting it gently behind him. 

     Phil turned off the computer, grabbing his wallet and throwing the discarded Starbucks cup in the bin. After a final sweep around the store he concluded that it was empty. He pulled the hood up over his head again, trying to pull his sleeves down even further which was a scientific impossibility as they were already as far down as they were going to go. It wasn’t against the law to expose your words, but Phil felt uncomfortable flaunting something so public when  _ he  _ wasn’t even sure what they meant. Any time he had dared to wear short sleeves he had felt like people were constantly trying to sneak a glance at his wrist.

     After a while he had given up.

    As he turned off the lights, flipping the  _ closed  _ sign to the front and heading back down the street towards the nearest cab, for once his thoughts weren’t on the words on his wrist. They were somewhere back in the store with a brown haired boy and a melancholy smile. 

     Phil knew it was dangerous to get too attached to someone, especially someone who he hadn’t been properly introduced to yet, but he was only human. Maybe it was because he didn’t know anything about Bear besides that he studied law and lived near a guy with loud music that made Phil curious. Or maybe it was because he didn’t even know Bear’s real name that gave him a false sense of safety and security. Or maybe it was because after twenty-three years of keeping his head low, following the rules, and living by his phobia Phil was bored. 

     He flagged the next cab, sliding in the back and giving the driver the instructions back to his flat. London passed by in a blur of people and conversations. Phil had always liked cab rides. There was something strangely beautiful in watching life go on yet being able to separate himself from it with the walls and glass of a cab.

     It wasn’t until Phil was laying in bed that night that it dawned on him. 

     If Bear had come to  _ Ink and Quill  _ to study then why hadn’t he brought any books with him?


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a world where the last words your soulmate will say to you are written on your wrist, fearful and introverted Phil works in a bookstore. His greatest fear? The words counting down the seconds until he meet his soulmate, someone called ‘Dan.’ But it isn’t until he befriends a university student that he nicknames ‘Bear’ that Phil realizes that surviving through fear isn’t the same as living.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to the fact that this fic is completely written, I think I'm going to post all of the chapters fairly close together. I apologize for the spam xx

    _Ink and Quill_ was one of the rapidly diminishing bookstores in London that was independently owned. It didn’t have the couches and cafes found in corporate bookstores, and there was just enough space for two floors, both crammed with bookshelves overflowing with books. The extent of its food stretched to the lone pot sitting by the counter that occasionally had coffee in it and the basket next to it filled with scones that no one seemed to know how old they were.

    Like most things in Phil’s life, it was hardly first class. He had been working at _Ink and Quill_ since university, and while it might not pay as much as he’d like there was a sense of comfort and safety that he associated with _Ink and Quill_ that was uniquely its own.

    It was also just around the corner from Starbucks, something else that he appreciated as the coffee at _Ink and Quill_ was crap. Due to this, Starbucks had become his retreat for when he needed a shot of caffeine.

     Caffeine withdrawal found Phil sitting at Starbucks as far from the door as was biologically possible. His cup was sitting on the table, lid firmly fastened. His phone was held in his right hand, a game of _Crossy Road_ loaded and underway.

    If _Ink and Quill_ was his second home, Starbucks was like his home-away-from-second-home. A regular for over five years, he was on a first name basis with most of the baristas and most of the time they could anticipate his order before he had even made up his mind. The tables were artfully arranged in a manner so that he could sit at the back surrounded by people but somehow maintain his isolation at the same time.

     It was a good place to be alone with his thoughts, but today he was meeting someone.

     A chair scraped across the floor followed by a small ‘oomphing’ sound.

     “Hi,” Phil said briefly without looking up.

    “What, no hug?” a feminine voice asked, the pout clear from her tones.

    “Just a second,” his face screwed up in concentration as he brought his phone even closer to his face. Jerking the phone from side to side didn’t do anything in _Crossy Road_ but it had been a habit he’d had ever since he was child. “Damn it!”

    “Did you die?”

    “No one wants a tortoise,” Phil scowled, glaring at his phone accusingly. He lowered it long enough to offer his companion a smile.

    “Don’t be so prejudiced against tortoises.”  Daisy was a slight girl with blonde hair and blue eyes who also had the misfortune of being one of Phil’s only friends.

     “You’re right,” he said seriously. He held his phone up melodramatically, kissing the picture of the tortoise that was still obstructing his screen. “I’m sorry. Can you ever forgive me?”

      “Don’t start making out with your phone,” Daisy warned. “We’re in public.”

     “No public declarations of love then?”

     “Not today at least,” she said with a smile. “Thanks for the drink.” She grabbed Phil’s cup, popping off the lid and taking a sip.

      “Hey!” Laughing, Phil made a grab for his drink, but Daisy jerked it away from him. “Get your own!”

    “I could, but why would I walk all the way over to the counter and stand in line when I can steal yours?”

    He made another lunge for the cup. She tried to pull it out of reach again but Phil had overcompensated. His momentum carried him straight into Daisy as the cup went flying.

    “Oh my god!” Phil scrambled to his feet, offering a hand. “Are you okay?” Daisy’s shirt and the floor seemed to have taken the brunt of the liquid but miraculously Phil’s clothes remained relatively clean.

     Daisy pulled herself to her feet, looking down at her shirt and making a face. “I’m fine. At least it was coffee and not beer or something.”

     “Beer?”

    “You know what I mean. Better to smell like a coffee shop than a brewery.”

    “Be thankful I’m more of the coffee shop variety than a night cluber,” Phil said with a wry smile. “Stay here, I’ll get napkins and some new drinks. Same?”

     “Same,” Daisy confirmed.

      “I’ll be right back. Famous last words,” he added before turning and disappearing into the crowd. Immediately he started to feel claustrophobic. He found himself completely immersed in laughter and conversation, a woman brushing past him. Her arm collided with his wrist and he stiffened, forcing himself to breathe.

     It was time like this when Phil couldn’t help but wonder if there was something wrong with him. No one else was effected by the words this way. Daisy was perfectly content to roll up her sleeves during the summer, attend a party, go to a bar and hook up with someone. Never mind that sweatshirts were comfortable or that he hated parties or that he had any desire to have sex with strangers, it was the knowledge that he _could_ if he wanted to. It was about having the freedom to choose.

     He slipped into the back of the line quietly, pulling out his phone and resuming his game of _Crossy Road._ Thank God for the invention of iPhones. They had saved him from more encounters than he could count.

      A scream shattered the buzz of conversations. Heads turned, Phil being one of them. Behind him sat a tear-stricken girl a few years younger than he was, her face chalk-white. A phone lay on the ground beside her but she made no effort to pick it up.

     “What’s wrong?” An older man with graying hair moved towards her, the concern evident in his voice but she recoiled with a flinch.

     “Leave me alone!”

     “I can help you,” he said gently. “I don’t want to hurt you, please, tell me what’s wrong.”

     “Don’t touch me!” the cry was strangled and ripped from her throat as she leapt from her chair, backing towards the wall.

     Murmurs broke out amongst the assembled crowd.

    “-Poor thing, I wonder if she just found her soulmate.”

    “Did she find her soulmate?”

    “The last time I heard or saw someone so distraught was at Mindy’s wedding when the bridesmaid found her soulmate. Turns out he was the best man the entire time.”

    The word was everywhere, echoed in the ranks of the old and the young. _Soulmate._

    Feeling like he was going to be sick, Phil pushed through the crowd, striking for the door. Part of him felt guilty for not doing anything to help, but the stronger part of him felt like he was going to throw up.

    He stumbled out the door, leaning against the wall of the building and closing his eyes. The wind was biting and whipped his fringe into his eyes, but he didn’t have energy for much else besides holding himself upright.

      _Soulmates._

A soulmate was supposed to be the one person who was the perfect match, who brought out the best in you and you in them. The one person who loved you despite your flaws, maybe even because of them. Your soulmate was supposed to be the one person who believed in you before anyone else. The one person you trusted with your life, and who trusted their life with you. A soulmate was supposed to be a happy ending.

    So far the concept of soulmates had brought nothing except pain to Phil’s life. Having a soulmate was useless if the second they met one of them was going to drop dead.

     The door swung open unexpectedly and Phil threw himself backwards. He was about to tell the person to watch where they were going when he saw who it was.

    The girl from the cafe marched out, wiping furiously at the corner of her eyes. She stopped when she saw Phil.

    “Do you believe in soulmates?” she asked bluntly. Her question was unexpected, and it took him aback.

    “Do I _believe_ in them?” Phil repeated. “It’s not like there’s much choice, is there? Why? Do you?” Their entire society revolved around finding your soulmate, and he wasn’t sure how someone could _not_ believe that they existed when the proof was etched on your wrist for the world to see.

     “I didn’t,” she said. “But like you said, it’s not like there’s much choice, is there?” The bitterness in her voice was uncomfortably familiar. It carried the same weight of disgust and cynical disdain that he heard in his own. “You have words, right?”

     Phil’s hand instinctively flew to his sleeve and he pulled it down self-consciously. “Doesn’t everyone?”

     In response she rolled up her sleeves, bearing her arms and holding them up for him to see.

     “Blank,” he said aloud, flushing. “Sorry.” The idea of someone having blank wrists was similar to the idea of Bigfoot, rare, hardly seen, and doubtful in credibility. If hadn’t been for the fact that the girl was right in front of him he probably wouldn’t have believed it.

    She shrugged, rolling them down. “There’s nothing to apologize for,” she said matter-of-factly. “For the longest time I thought that maybe there was something wrong with me, that the reason my wrists were blank was because no one could ever love someone like me. Then I realized how fucked up this entire system is. You find your perfect match only to what, die? Break up? What’s the point? I started to think that maybe soulmates didn’t even exist, and it was all something we had built up in our minds until it became a reality.”

   “Do you still believe that?” Phil asked quietly.

   “My best friend was a girl named Anna. We met on the first day of school, the two freaks. I had no words and she was mute. She was in a car accident last month and she was in a coma until today.” She visibly swallowed, looking as if it physically hurt to speak.

    “You don’t have to tell me if you-”

    “She died this morning.” The girl’s voice was flat, her stare too calm to be believable. “I knew before the woman had even opened her mouth. We’d been dating for the past year and… Don’t you see? I thought I thought that I was immune and that maybe none of this would affect me. But it did, and in the end it probably hurt me more than anyone else. They wanted to put her on the phone but she died before they had a chance.”

     “I’m sorry.” Probably two of the most insignificant words he could’ve picked, but as empty as the words ‘I’m sorry’ were anything else would’ve been worse. When it came down it wasn’t everything false?

      She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.” The pain clouding her eyes said otherwise.

    “Of course it does.”

     She was silent for a moment. “Promise me something.”

     “What?”

     “Don’t forget about either of us, but especially Anna. She deserves to be remembered as more than a mute. I can tell you haven’t found your soulmate yet, so I’m going to give you a piece of advice.” Her voice was weary, as if at her nineteen or so years she was already tired of living. “I’m not going to ask you what your words are, because frankly its none of my business. They say life’s a bitch, but at least a bitch has good days. Soulmates are just plain fucked up. Whether it’s worth it is up to you, but if you’re the last one standing make sure you can handle it.”

     “Can you?” Phil asked, finding his voice.

     “Can I what?”

     “Handle it.”

     Her face was impassive as she shoved her hands in her pockets. “Good luck,” she said coldly, pushing past him. Phil grabbed her arm, halting her.

    “My name’s Phil, Phil Lester,” he said urgently. Normally he wouldn’t have dared to say his name quite so openly, but he didn’t have time to think of a way around it. “I work at _Ink and Quill._ If you ever feel like you can’t handle anything…” he trailed off, fixing his fringe self-consciously. He wasn’t even sure why he’d bothered to say anything. They had met only a couple of minutes ago and it wasn’t like it was his place to interfere. At the same time, it wouldn’t have felt right to let her walk away without at least _trying_ to help.

    “Phil Lester?” He nodded. “Thank you for your offer, but I have everything under control.” She wrenched free of his grasp, starting to walk.

    “Think about it!” he called after her.

    No acknowledgement of his words. The girl continued walking, the blue of her peacoat vanishing from sight as she rounded the bend.

    Phil sucked in breath and released it, pressing a hand to his pounding temple with a wince. Pulling out his phone he unlocked it, scrolling down until he reached his conversation with Daisy. His hands were shaking so badly that it took him five attempts to draft a legible text.

    _Heading back to the shop. I’m fine, don’t worry, just a headache._

The excuse of a headache wouldn’t be enough of a lie to last forever, but Phil wasn’t looking for forever. Out of habit he flipped his hood up over his head, turning and following the girl’s footsteps up the street.

~

   The bell jingled above the door. Phil was slumped on his desk, staring moodily at his phone. Business was always slow on Mondays, but it seemed exceptionally slow today. On the day when Phil needed as many distractions as he could they all seemed to have disappeared. No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t shake the girl from his head. Every time he blinked her eyes flashed in his mind, dead and hollow. Selfishly, it only served to terrify him further. Having seen the effect losing your soulmate could have firsthand, it only heightened Phil’s desire to hide in his flat for the rest of his life.

    _If you’re the last one standing make sure you can handle it._

    “Excuse me? Are there any books here on…skyscrapers?”

    Phil straightened in his seat to find Bear standing at his desk, biting his lip. “Just a minute,” he said, flushing. Out of all the people it could’ve been to catch him asleep on his desk, it _had_ to be Bear. This was really shaping up to be his day.

    “Downstairs again,” Phil said, searching the query in the catalogue. “Second bookcase along the back wall, first shelf. You shouldn’t be able to miss it.”

     “Thanks,” Bear said, making no attempt to move. There was something indecipherable in the brown of his eyes, the gentle downwards tilt to his lips, the way his head was cocked slightly to the left. “Are you okay?”

     “I’m fine,” Phil said, instantly regretting his choice of words. He had never excelled at thinking under pressure, a talent he’d especially wished he’d had during school.

     “You can talk to me,” Bear said, looking just as surprised at his boldness as Phil was. “I mean, you listened to me complain about my dorm, it’s only fair.”

      “I’m just tired,” Phil said, his words falling flat.

     Bear raised an eyebrow. “Tired as in ‘get me a bed before I fall over’ or tired as in ‘I’m tired of living?’”

     His straightforwardness took Phil by surprise. Bear had never been very vocal until their conversation the other day about _Scott Pilgrim._ “How was _Seconds_?” Another trait Phil lacked-the ability to change conversation topics with ease.

    “I’m almost done,” Bear said, still eying him warily. “It’s been good so far.”

    “I’ll have to give it a read at some point,” Phil said, trying for a smile. He wasn’t really in the mood for a conversation right now, but at the same time he couldn’t bring himself to tell Bear off.

    “What’s wrong?”

    “Nothing’s wrong. I’m just tired.” The issue with picking a lie was once you picked it, you were stuck with it no matter how shitty it was.

    Bear’s next question was after a pause, quiet and hesitant. “Have you found your soulmate yet?”

    For the second time that day, Phil found himself confronted with the topic of soulmates. Why was everything always at once? “Not yet,” he said finally. “I’m not sure how that’s any of your business, but I haven’t.”

    Bear nodded. “I haven’t either.”

    He wasn’t sure why Bear had felt the need to volunteer that particular piece of information, but he followed Bear’s lead, giving a nod. “Do you need some help finding the book, or-“

    “Don’t worry about it. Spending too much time thinking about things that you can’t change is dangerous. Who knows what might happen? If you’re not careful your brain will start to sink into a black hole, and it’s harder to climb out of an abyss than it is to fall into it. Instead of thinking about what _could_ happen in a worst case scenario, try and focus on a best case scenario. Losing optimism is dangerous,” Bear blurted.

   While his assertiveness was certainly a change, Phil couldn’t decide if it was a positive or negative one.

    “I guess,” he said reluctantly. “I haven’t looked at the news yet so it might not even have been important enough to be broadcasted, did you hear about what happened at Starbucks today?”

     “No, but I’ve been locked in a classroom since six a.m.,” Bear made a face. “Why, what happened?”

    “There was a girl there who got a call from the hospital,” Phil said, clenching his jaw at an attempt to keep his emotions in check. “Her soulmate died.”

    Bear’s expression looked strangely sympathetic, almost like he understood. “I’m sorry.”

    “You shouldn’t be sorry for me.”

    “What was her name?”

    “Her soulmate’s name was Anna.”

    “Anna? That’s always been one of my favorite names,” Bear said a touch thoughtfully. “If I had been a girl my parents were going to name me that.”

    “My name was going to be Fiona,” Phil said, wincing. “Can you imagine me as a Fiona?”

    “You’re not a girl for one thing, but no.”

     “Use your imagination,” Phil said, rolling his eyes and smiling a little despite himself.

     “I still couldn’t see you as a Fiona,” Bear said, tilting his head to the side. “You couldn’t pull off Fiona.”

    “If I could pick any name besides the one I have now I’d pick Zack. I think I could pull it off.” Phil struck a pose, gratified to see Bear smile.

    “You couldn’t pull off Zack, you know you couldn’t pull off Zack.”

    “Jackson?”

     “No, you couldn’t pull Jackson, you know you couldn’t pull off Jackson.”

    “Breado?”

    “Breado?” For the first time since meeting him, Bear started to laugh. The dimple lingering near his cheek surfaced as his eyes blazed, and something about the pure happiness in his expression made Phil laugh too.

   “What’s wrong with Breado?”

    “Are you actually kidding me?” Bear asked through his laughter.

    “You don’t like it?”

    “I mean…” he cleared his throat. “Breado? Really?”

    “At least it’d be unique,” Phil said. “I’m happy with my name, though.”

    “Which is?”

    Bear’s next question was quiet enough that Phil could pretend that he hadn’t heard it. “Are you taking a course on architecture?”

      “Law,” Bear pronounced distastefully. “I’m regretting it, too.”

      “Why did you pick that as your major if you don’t like it?”

      “I wanted something that would make me look clever and employable, and I figured law would look impressive on a resume.” As Bear launched into an explanation about the toils of law school, Phil found himself listening with a smile. It was strange how a conversation with Bear had been enough to make him laugh when an afternoon of isolation couldn’t.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a world where the last words your soulmate will say to you are written on your wrist, fearful and introverted Phil works in a bookstore. His greatest fear? The words counting down the seconds until he meet his soulmate, someone called ‘Dan.’ But it isn’t until he befriends a university student that he nicknames ‘Bear’ that Phil realizes that surviving through fear isn’t the same as living.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to the fact that this fic is completely written, I think I'm going to post all of the chapters fairly close together. I apologize for the spam xx

     The book was sitting on his desk when he arrived the next day. A blue sticky-note stuck out of the top of the pages, something scrawled across the top with a black sharpie. Phil hung his coat on the back of his chair, taking a seat and pulling the book towards him. Balancing a cup of coffee in one hand, he opened to the sticky-note.

     The message looked like it had been written in a hurry, although it was still a lot neater than Phil’s handwriting could ever be. Before he had even read the note he knew who it was from. He brushed his thumb over the writing as he gently removed the note and stuck it to his desk.

      _I finished this last night and I figured you might not have read it yet._

     Smiling, Phil flipped the book shut, reading the title. _Seconds._

    Without a second thought he turned on the light, leaning back in his chair and opening to page one. If his manager walked in  he was screwed, but the urge was too tempting and his willpower was too weak.

      As he turned the page, Phil caught himself thinking about what Bear’s thoughts had been whilst reading _Seconds_. If there was someone with a definite opinion, it would be Bear. While it seemed on a surface level at least that Bear chose not to talk more than was necessary, their last conversation had shown Phil that there was an intelligent if somewhat sarcastic personality hidden underneath a layer of shyness and insecurity.

     The bell jingled and he reluctantly bookmarked his page, plastering a smile on his face. Part of him was hoping that it was going to be Bear, but he knew it wasn’t before he had even registered who it was.

      “I’m looking for a book for my granddaughter,” an older woman began with a smile. “I can’t remember what it was called, but it had to do with a boarding school I think? Something about a girl named Frankie?”

      Phil chewed his bottom lip absentmindedly. “Was it by E. Lockhart?”

     “That sounds right.”

     Phil slid back his chair, crossing to a shelf a couple of feet away from the desk. His fingers brushed the spines of the books as he mouthed the titles silently. “Is this is?” he asked, pulling one off of the shelf and handing it to the woman.

      She glanced at it before nodding. “Thank you.”

     “This is the only copy we have, and it’s used. It _is_ half-price,” Phil said. “-but if that’s going to be an issue we can always order a new book.”

      “Used is fine,” the woman said.

      Phil opened the cover, flipping through the pages. At the woman’s curious expression, he clarified. “It’s a policy that we always check the used books before we sell them out to people. You never know what’s hidden inside of a book.” On the very last page was a bright yellow sticky-note. What was it with all of the post-its today? Maybe it was national sticky-note day.

      He pulled it off, walking back to his desk and scanning it. He placed it in a bag, the woman handing him a wad of money. With a final smile she accepted the bag and left, the bell ringing in her wake.

      Phil stuck the sticky-note next to the one Bear had given him, picking up _Seconds_ again. He was about to resume reading when his eyes happened to scan the newly retrieved note.

      _Remember that time when we watched the sunrise on your roof and you fell off?_

Phil smiled to himself as he began to read. It was always interesting to see what people left inside of books. Books had more power than most people gave them credit for, and the marks that people left in books was a mark of who they were as a person.

     He immersed himself in the next twenty pages of _Seconds_ before he was aware of how much time had passed. When he finally sat the book down he reached for the nearest object, a sharpie, rolling it between his fingers as he gauged how lazy he was feeling versus another cup of coffee. Laziness winning over, he was about to set the marker down when a purple pad of sticky-notes caught his attention.

      An idea crossing his mind, Phil grabbed them, uncapping the sharpie. He tapped the end of the sharpie against the table, thinking. Without a second thought, he began to write.

~

     “Trees?” Phil tilted his head, squinting at the cover.

     Bear shrugged. “Why not? They’re what gives us oxygen.”

    “Fair enough,” Phil said, his hands falling into the familiar routine as he rung up the book and placed it in a bag.

     “Did you always want to work at a bookstore?” Bear asked, making no move to reach for the book.

    “ _Ink and Quill_ was where I worked during university,” Phil answered. “I’m friends with the owner and he was fine with me working here while I figured out what I wanted to do next.”

      “If money was no objective what would you want to do next?” Bear sounded genuinely curious.

      “If money was no objective? There would be too many options to decide that quickly. What about you?”

      “Something different,” he said, the speed of his answer taking Phil by surprise.

      “You wouldn’t want to stay at your current dorm?”

      “Ha.”

       “Something different would be nice,” Phil agreed. While he wouldn’t say that he was unhappy necessarily, life as he knew it had seemed mundane three years ago, a feeling that had only grown more intense over time.

     “Do you like anime?” Bear asked suddenly.

      “Anime and _Buffy_ are the reasons for why I don’t have a social life,” Phil joked. “And the internet.”

       “Have you read _Death Note_?”

      “I’ve watched it” Phil said, cringing. “Sorry, I always hate it when people say that.”

      Bear made a mock expression of severity as he crossed his arms, shaking his head. At least for today, he seemed to have come out of his shell a little. “I’m disappointed in you.”

        “I’ll get around to it at some point,” Phil promised. “Which reminds me-” he opened his desk drawer, pulling out _Seconds_ and handing it to Bear. “Thanks.”

        “What did you think?”

         “I liked it,” Phil said thoughtfully. “I think I still liked _Scott Pilgrim_ better, but it was a fairly fast read.”  

         “I wish I could create something like that,” Bear said, sounding wistful.

        “Why can’t you?”

        Bear laughed humorlessly. “First of all, you need to actually have a talent to create something that people care enough about to spend their money on. Second of all, where would I find the time? University takes up most of my life, and the time I have left is spent studying for my exams.”

       “You have a talent,” Phil said, frowning. “Everyone has something that they’re passionate about.”

      “Everyone?” Bear repeated skeptically.

      “Everyone,” Phil said firmly. “Even if they don’t know what it is yet. Out of everyone I’ve met, they’ve all had something that makes them tick. You’re not any different.”

      Bear shrugged, his body language making it clear that further pursuit of the topic would not be welcome.

      “Are you liking school any better?” Phil asked.

       His subject choice had evidently been a poor one. Bear’s face darkened. “Fine,” he answered shortly.

       “Okay,” Phil said uncertainly, mentally beating himself up. “Well if you want to talk about anything or something that’s bothering you… ” he let his offer trail off mid-sentence. “Yeah,” he finished lamely, feeling a blush start to spread across his face.

         “Thanks,” Bear said coldly. He grabbed his book off of the counter. Phil considered asking if he had said something wrong but Bear was gone before he had even had time to think of a proper question, the door slamming shut behind him.

~

     Phil supposed that he should’ve expected it. When he came back from lunch the next day, a stack of manga was siting on his desk, a blue sticky-note with familiar writing stuck to the top. A smile tugging at the corner of his lips, Phil pulled the note off of the top.

      _Why do you sign your name with cat whiskers? See if these change your mind._

Phil let out a quiet laugh as he picked up the first volume. _Death Note._

~

    Over the course of the next week, Phil’s collection of sticky-notes slowly started to accumulate. He had long since removed them from his desk, deciding that if Bear stumbled across them while leaving his books it might be a little hard to explain. He was fairly certain that a normal person wouldn’t bother keeping something as insignificant as a couple of sentences on a piece of paper, but Phil had never considered himself to be a normal person anyway.

     He had brought his copy of _Scott Pilgrim_ to the shop, sliding the notes in between the pages. Every now and then he’d take it out and re-read them, smiling to himself.

      Bear’s latest note lay beside him and the next volume of _Death Note,_ unanswered. Its question was glaring up at him accusingly.

      _What should I call you?_

      The door swung open and Phil dropped his sharpie, sliding the marker, Bear’s note, and the pad of blank sticky-notes into his desk drawer. A rainstorm had kept business at home for the day, and Phil had considered closing early.

    London was no stranger to rain, but even the most determined Londoner had to admit that they hadn’t a rainstorm quite this bad in a long time.

      Bear stomped through the door, wearing a black raincoat and dripping water. His hair was plastered to his face, water streaming from its ends. He stood just a few feet in front of the door, blinking as if he couldn’t fathom why he’d come.

      “Are you okay?” Phil asked tentatively. Bear hadn’t seemed to have heard him. His head was bowed, and for a moment Phil thought he was crying. If he was, it was hard to tell what was tears and what was rain. “Bear?”

       “Bear?”

        _Shit,_ Phil winced. “Nothing,” he lied.

      “Is that what you call me?” Bear’s voice sounded strangely amused, although he still wouldn’t meet his eyes.

       “No.”

       “That’s what my family calls me,” he said quietly. “Interesting coincidence, don’t you think?”

       Unable to think of anything to say, Phil lapsed into a silence, watching as Bear stomped his feet. He walked up to Phil’s desk with wooden movements, as if each step took more energy than he could summon.

        “You can tell me what’s wrong,” Phil said gently. He got up from his chair, standing next to Bear. He hesitated only briefly before gingerly wrapping an arm around Bear’s shoulders. “You’re freezing.”

       “That does tend to happen when someone’s been out in the pouring rain for two hours,” Bear said humorlessly.

       Phil froze. “Two _hours_? Are you actually trying to catch pneumonia?”

      “Yes, because I have both the time and money to book an appointment at the A&E,” Bear said sarcastically. He hadn’t reacted to Phil’s embrace, but he hadn’t pulled away yet either.

        “Go sit down, I’ll see if I can find some dry clothes,” Phil said.

        Bear didn’t move. “I don’t even know why I bothered coming here,” he said.

        “Do you want a cup of coffee?” Phil asked, refusing to be deterred.

        “This was a mistake,” Bear muttered, a muscle clenching in his jaw. “I’m sorry. I should leave.”

        “I’ll take that as a no,” Phil said, firmly guiding Bear to one of the chairs-a white love seat. “I’ll be right back.”

      “Why do people always say that?” Bear asked, a blank expression stealing over his features.

      Figuring that saving Bear from hypothermia took priority over sedating his curiosity, Phil ran back to his desk, opening the chest sitting off to the side. He emerged a couple of seconds later with a dark green woolen blanket. As he passed the kettle he turned it on, deciding that crappy coffee was better than no coffee at all.

       “Take off your coat,” Phil ordered Bear not unkindly. Bear shucked off the raincoat, handing it to Phil who gave him the blanket in return.

        “Wool?” Bear made a face, for a moment almost sounding like his old self.

       “Hey, beggars can’t afford to be choosers,” Phil said, crossing the room and hanging Bear’s coat next to his on the rack. He walked back towards Bear, sitting beside him on the love seat.

       “I’m not a beggar.”

        Phil pulled the blanket out of Bear’s grasp, readjusting it until he covered him. “I put some water on,” he said.

      “I wasn’t aware that you had taken the role of my third parent,” Bear said dryly, pulling the blanket further down over his shoulders.

     “Would you have rather that I’d let you freeze to death?”

    “That would’ve been preferable, yes,” he muttered.

    “Breakup?”

     “I’d need to get a girlfriend in order to have a breakup.”

     “Bad test score?”

     “That would imply that I gave a fuck about my test scores.”  

      “Invasion of the killer robot death machines?” Phil teased.

     “Closer.”

      “I know what it was!” Phil said with feigned enthusiasm, snapping his fingers. “You were abducted by a magician with the power of summoning psychic butterflies posing as your old maths teacher!”

     Bear wrinkled his nose, a smile starting to force it’s way out. “Yeah, that’s exactly what happened. How’d you know?”

    “I know and see all.” The kettle started to go off, and Phil stood again, walking to the counter and fixing two cups of instant coffee. “Do you want a scone?” Bear shook his head wordlessly and Phil grabbed the cups, balancing them precariously as he walked back towards the seat.

    “Thanks,” Bear said quietly, taking the cup and wrapping his hands around it. “I won’t stay too long-”

    “You can stay as long as you’d like,” Phil said. “At least until the rain stops.” He took a sip, making a face. “I like instant coffee, but I think personally this is an insult to call instant anything.”

     Bear mimicked his actions, taking a sip and making a face of his own. “For a bookstore your coffee is pretty shit.”

    “We have a Starbucks up the road,” Phil said. “I usually go there on my lunch breaks. No one ever drinks the coffee anyway, probably because they know how bad it is,” he added with a smile. Bear nodded, crossing his legs and hiding his face in the mug. Phil watched him in silence, taking another drink as the burning liquid forced its way down his throat.

    “Are you happy here?” Bear asked finally, breaking the silence.

    “Here as in _Ink and Quill_?” Bear nodded. “I know it’s not first class, and my flat isn’t the best either, but at least for now I’m content. If I discovered something better I’d probably take it, but it’s not a bad life by any stretch of the imagination.”

     Bear’s face remained impassive as he listened. “What did you study at uni?”

    “There were a few things, but mainly Psychology and English and Linguistics,” Phil said. “I enjoyed the courses while I was taking them, but it’s hard to find a job with a degree like that.”

     “So Bear?” Bear asked after another pause, smirking slightly.

     “Bear,” Phil repeated sheepishly. “I blame Pooh.” Now that Bear knew his nickname, he supposed there wasn’t much point in trying to hide it’s origins

    “Pooh?”

    “It’s a long story.”

    “I guess that means I should tell you my nickname for you,” Bear said.

    “You have a nickname for me?” Phil asked. He was surprised that Bear had thought enough about him to come up with a name.

     “I don’t know your actual name,” Bear said. “-And you always sign your name with cat whiskers, so I came up with the nickname ‘Cat.’” He flushed, burying his face in his hands. “Jesus Christ.”

      Phil laughed. “I like how we both came up with animal related nicknames.” He took another drink from his cup, mulling it over. “Cat and Bear. I like that.”


	4. Chapter Four

     Like most people, Phil had a bucket list. He supposed that list might not be the correct term, but he had an idea of various things he’d like to accomplish before he died. As the vast majority of them involved actually going out and meeting people he doubted that he would be able to cross even one of the items off of the list by the time he died.

      One thing that he thought he could maybe do was number five: attend a Muse concert. He figured a concert was a little different as the focus was on the music, not making small talk. When he had seen the advertisements that Muse was coming to London, his mind had immediately jumped to Bear as the person he wanted to go with him.

      While he could’ve easily left the ticket in the next book Bear bought, it felt a little more personal to ask in person. There was also the more selfish reason of wanting to see Bear’s reaction once he found out.

      There were few things Phil found as rewarding as making Bear smile.

      The exact reasons for his fascination with the university student remained as unknown to him now as they had been from the start. It was more that out of all of the traits that were molded and shaped to form Bear it was hard to pinpoint an exact feature.

      One thing he could say for sure about it, though, was that it was terrifying. He had never thought it would be possible to forget the words and what they meant, but when he was around Bear it was easy to forget. A nickname couldn’t last forever.

      Phil had spent the last couple of days thinking in circles of the millions of ways he could announce it. He never had come to a decision which was how he found himself clearing his throat self-consciously as Bear stood in front of him, wondering how some people managed to come up with these kinds of things so easily and wishing he was one of them. 

      “Have you found it yet?” Bear leaned against the desk, adjusting his fringe as he did so.

      “You’re sure it was about cacti?” Phil asked. “And it was a memoir?” Bear nodded, although something about it still came across as being a little unsure. “You sure you’re not thinking about going into botany?” he added half-jokingly.

        “Plants aren’t really my thing,” Bear wrinkled his nose.

        Then why are you wasting your money to read about them? Phil wanted to ask, but he remained silent. He supposed that the situation wasn’t all downsides–Bear came back daily to ask about the book, even more than he’d been visiting previously.

       “I like plants,” Phil said. “My entire flat has more houseplants in it than is probably considered to be normal.”

       “I just kind of forget about them,” Bear laughed. “They’re nice to look at, but I forget that you actually need to water them. I think that’s probably why most of them died.”

      “Water might be helpful,” Phil smiled. It was harder than he’d thought to return to his previous detachment around Bear, even though he knew the alternative could be worse. Or not, a voice whispered in the back of his mind. Or maybe it could work out and—Phil scowled, effectively clamping down any further thoughts on the subject. There wasn’t any point in wishing for something that was never going to happen.

       “Explains a lot,” Bear remarked. He straightened his posture, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Did you change your mind?”

       “About which thing?”

        “That everyone has a purpose.”

       “Why should it change? If it’s the truth why would I bother with lies.”

        Bear paused, his eyes becoming unfocused as if he was looking somewhere away from Phil. “Sometimes lies are easier to deal with than the truth,” he said quietly. “Even if it’s a pleasant truth.”

        “I think that generally people tend to be too afraid of the truth,” Phil said. “It’s one of those things that you can never really get away from.”

        “People try too hard to get away from it,” Bear said moodily. His gaze refocused, and he ducked his head to stare at the wooden grains in the desk.

        “Is there anything that’s making you bring this up right now?” Phil asked cautiously. After Bear had stormed into Ink and Quill three days ago he had left as soon as the rain had stopped without another word. He hadn’t dared broach the subject after Bear had flat-out shut down any questions about what had happened.

       “Does there have to be a specific reason?” Bear asked irritably. Though Phil knew Bear’s irritation wasn’t directed at him, it still stung as hard as he tried to brush it off.

       “No,” Phil said, phrasing his next words carefully. “But usually thoughts like that don’t pop out of nowhere.”

        “Maybe mine do,” Bear snapped. Phil had known Bear long enough by now to know when he was closing down, and the tell tale sign was always in his eyes. Before Bear could close himself off completely, Phil changed the subject.

        “Muse is coming to concert near here soon,” he said casually.

        Bear snatched onto the new topic with relief. “I know, I wish I could go.”

        “I have an extra ticket,” Phil said, trying to stick with the same aura of carelessness and relaxation even though he thought his pulse must be racing loud enough for Bear to be able to hear it. “None of my other friends really care about Muse.” That wasn’t true, strictly speaking While Daisy might not have been interested, Liam liked Muse well enough to attend a concert for the evening. But if the point was for Phil to cross one of the items off of his list, he wanted it to be with someone who he knew would enjoy it as much if not more.

         “Really?” Bear asked. His expression had lit up at Phil’s initial words before carefully steeling itself into a composed mask.

         “It wasn’t cheap, too,” Phil said with a frown. “I wish I could find somewhere to get rid of it. Is there anyone that you know would want to go?”

         Bear swallowed visibly, looking like he was trying to choke down a planet. “I could ask some of my friends if–”

        Phil dropped the pretenses, laughing. “Or you could come. If you wanted to.”

       “I hate you,” Bear grumbled, the grin saying otherwise. “If you really do have the extra ticket and you don’t mind…”

      “If I had cared I wouldn’t have brought it up. Don’t get too excited, though,” Phil added warningly. “It’s not for a couple of weeks.”

      “Thank you,” Bear said simply.

      “Thank you for saying you’ll come,” Phil said. “I was worried I’d have to force my mum to go.”

      “I’d be stupid to say no.”

       “You’ll be stuck me me. It all balances out.”

       “You make it sound like that’s such a huge punishment,” Bear rolled his eyes.

       “It might be depending on who you ask,” Phil said fairly.

       “It’s not to me,” Bear said.

~

      Phil opened another tab, typing in another search with slightly different wording. It had almost been a week since Bear had asked about the cactus book, and Phil hadn’t been able to find anything remotely close to the description. There was a nagging voice in the back of his mind that Bear had been trolling him this whole time and that the book didn’t actually exist, but if that was the case then why would he bother checking on Phil’s progress?

     None of the usual methods had worked. Amazon, Barnes and Noble, the library, nothing with the keywords cactus or memoir appeared that fit the description. He hated the idea of letting Bear down, but quite frankly he was out of places to look. Sighing, Phil was about to give up and close the tab when something caught his eye. It was on some out of the way blog about gardening and climate, but there it was.

      Cactus Maintenance: A memoir.

     Grinning in triumph, Phil typed the title into Amazon, adding the book to his cart. Though it had turned out to be a real book it still seemed strange to him that someone like Bear who openly expressed his disinterest in plants would spend money almost every week to read about them.

     Phil shrugged it off, closing his computer and stretching out his limbs as he stood, wincing. He grabbed his coat from where it was laying at the foot of the bed, pulling it on as he made for the door.

      The hours of forced conversation and stilted laughter that were the Lester family reunions was hardly his preferred way to the spend the afternoon. But having pulled out of the last one at the claim of a bad head cold, he felt obligated to at least make an appearance.

       He shoved his feet into his shoes, clutching his phone in one hand in keys in the other as he stepped outside. After locking the door behind him, he walked down the street in the general direction of a cab. London on a Sunday was busier than he would’ve thought, people running up and down the street in search of transportation. Phil was one such person, and he joined the waiting crowd. A couple of minutes later he was safely inside a cab of his own, giving the driver directions before leaning back in his seat and whipping out his phone.

      The last ‘party’ he’d been to had been in Manchester, this year it was at his aunt’s house who lived a short distance away from Phil’s flat. She always went on about how they needed to get together more as they lived so close by, but she never made an effort to follow up. Then again, neither had Phil.

      Phil’s parents hadn’t been poor exactly, but between their jobs and he and his brother there hadn’t been a lot of extra money either. By contrast, his aunt had more money than she knew what to do with. The millions of pounds were shoved in the vault of a bank where they would remain until the day they died. The days of large houses and servants had long since passed, and she’d decided to retire to the city and live a more ‘modest’ lifestyle.

      While he appreciated the sentiment, as the cab pulled up in front of a large house complete with a birdbath modest was the word furthest from his mind.

        “Thanks,” he said, paying the cabbie and stumbling out of the vehicle. Luckily no one was around to witness his fall, and Phil proceeded up the walkway with as much dignity as he could muster.

       The door was opened as soon as he knocked by one of cousins, a girl around the age of four with braids.

        “Hey,” he said, smiling.

        “Hi,” the girl said, giggling as she pulled the door open further. The moment his foot crossed the entryway, someone had grabbed him and pulled him into a bone-crushing hug. He winced, returning the hug with a considerably lighter one.

         “It’s lovely to see you again,” his aunt said, pulling away.

         “You too,” Phil said.

         “You just get taller and more handsome every day,” she gushed, patting him on the back. By the time Phil had reached college the remarks about being a ‘growing boy’ had subsided from everyone except his aunt. Even now, graduated and living on his own it was like a ritual that she couldn’t seem to break.

        “Thank you,” Phil said, figuring a smile was one of the least offensive things he could do. He never knew how to respond, something that had only increased as he grew older.

        “Come on into the kitchen, don’t just stand there. Make yourself at home!”

        Phil resisted the urge to point out that he’d arrived just a minute ago and followed her into the kitchen. It was strange, but he almost felt more self-conscious around his family then he did strangers. He instinctively scanned the kitchen for James, jumping when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

         “James is sick today.” Phil’s mum had an ever present smile and ginger blonde hair that had slowly started to lighten over the years. She held out her arms for a hug, wrapping Phil in her embrace. There were somethings that he thought would always be nice regardless of his age, hugs being one of them.

        “Sure he is,” Phil answered. He couldn’t bring himself to be too annoyed, though. It was probably karma for the head cold. His mum shook her head, rolling her eyes with another one of her smiles.

       “You could talk to other people,” she said.

       “Why would I want to do that?” Phil asked, grinning.

       “You never answered my call last night,” his mum said with a pointed look. Phil winced as she continued. “So I wasn’t able to tell you beforehand. If Robert does show up, be gentle with him. I know you normally are anyway,” she said before Phil could object. “–But he recently broke up with his girlfriend. She was his soulmate.”

      Phil nodded, forcing an agreeable expression on his face as his mum retreated to the lounge. If there was a God or some higher power he prayed for an intervention. Socializing was hard enough, but he wasn’t sure how well he’d be able to handle Robert or how much comfort he could offer him.

      Groups of people were huddled by the bar, laughing. Jeffery and his girlfriend brushed past him, talking in the contained bubble that only couples have. There was a part of him that craved a relationship like that, to be in love with someone and have them be in love with him. But whenever something good happened to convince him that maybe falling in love wouldn’t be as bad as he thought, something else occurred like Robert and his soulmate to jolt him back to reality.

       “You look excited to be here.” The remark was dry, and there was only one person Phil knew it could be from.

       “Not as thrilled as you,” he said, turning with a smirk.

        Violet Worthington had a blonde head of Worthington hair and blue Lester eyes. With a height of 5’9, she was one of the only girls Phil knew that could almost look him squarely in the face.

         “I wasn’t going to come,” she said, snapping one of the numerous hair elastics that hung on her wrist. “Dad didn’t give me a choice.”

         “You managed to not come to the last three,” Phil said, raising an eyebrow.

         “Exactly. I noticed you managed to skip the last one.”

         “Hay fever,” Phil said.

         Violet snorted. “In December?”

         “It’s not my fault if the internet and Buffy are slightly more interesting than making small talk all evening.”

         “Only slightly?”

         “I was trying to be kind,” Phil said.

          “How generous of you.”

          “How’s university?”

          Violet shrugged. “Is there a specific answer you’re looking for? It’s just the University of Manchester, it’s not like it’s anything special.”

          The University of Manchester. The words jogged a memory in Phil’s mind. Unless he was mistaken, Bear attended uni in Manchester. The question was burning, ready to be asked, but he clamped his mouth shut. If he was right, this could ruin everything.

         Phil was only human, though, and he couldn’t resist asking.  “Is there someone around your age with a brown fringe and brown eyes?”

         Violet frowned, thinking. “Bit of a vague description.”

         “He studies law.”

         “I think I know who you’re talking about,” she said slowly. “Kind of a tan?”

       “Do you know his name?” Phil asked nonchalantly, clenching his hands into fists as his palms began to sweat. His heartbeat increased in volume, growing louder and louder until it almost blocked out Violet’s next words.

        “No,” she said. “Sorry.” Phil released a long breath as disappointment and strangely enough, relief, started to replace the dread. “Why?” she asked, her eyes narrowing mischievously. “Is there something–someone–you’re not telling me about?”

        “No!” Phil said defensively–too defensively. It was Violet’s turn to raise her eyebrows, subjecting him to a knowing stare. “It’s–there was this university student who came to Ink and Quill once and I was just wondering if you knew who he was.”

         “Once?” Violet repeated skeptically, the smirk growing. “You sure?”

        “Yes,” Phil said firmly.

         “I can find out for you if you’d like,” she offered.

        For a moment, the offer was tempting. The smart thing to do would be to say yes. If Bear’s name was Dan then Phil would have to make sure that he never saw him again.

        Even just the thought of working at Ink and Quill for the rest of his life without finding a stack of books on his desk with the attached sticky-note, or hearing someone call him ‘Cat,’ or without ever seeing and hearing Bear’s laugh was enough to make his head start to spin.

        The stupid and selfish option was to say no. Because while the rational part of Phil knew that nothing could last forever and that at some point Bear would start to become curious, he was irrational enough to want to try.

        He supposed that when it came down to it there wasn’t really much of a choice.

        Phil chose the stupid option.

       “No thanks,” he said. 


	5. Chapter Five

      The exact details of how _Ink and Quill_ came into existence and how it was still open and functioning had always been somewhat of a mystery to Phil. While on a typical day it wasn’t desolate by a long shot, it never seemed like there were enough customers to support the shop alone.

      London was big enough that there were places that seemed like they had been there forever. _Ink and Quill_ was one such example. It seemed that it had always been there and that it probably always would be. There had been a rumor in circulation for the past couple of years that _Ink and Quill_ was owned by a wealthy and elderly couple as a kind of past time, which would explain a lot if it were true.

     Regardless of how it came to be or how long it would last, Phil couldn’t deny that out of all of the places to work _Ink and Quill_ was one of the better ones. Vacations were usually fairly lax, the hours from eight to five with an hours break for lunch. Extra time he wanted to take off he recorded on a program on the computer. It worked by the honor system, but dishonesty was more of a foreign concept to Phil than if he tried to learn Japanese.

     Out of all of the days of the week, Tuesdays had quickly presented themselves as being the least eventful. Phil had just settled back from lunch with his customary cup of coffee to finish cataloging the latest shipment of books when the door opened.

     He set down a hardcover copy of _Horton Hears a Who,_ registering Bear standing at the front of his desk in surprise.

     “Hey,” Phil said, smiling and shooting a glance at the clock. _1:15._ “Are you on break?”

     “Hi,” Bear said, offering a smile of his own in return. “Break started yesterday.”

      “I’m flattered that you’d take valuable free-time to come and visit,” Phil said only partially sarcastically. “You hadn’t stopped by the last couple of days and I was getting worried.” Opening the second drawer down he pulled out _Cactus Maintenance: A memoir,_ waving it triumphantly in front of Bear. “I finally found it.”

       “You did?” Bear asked, sounding more startled than anything, and only further confirming the suspicions that had started to grow in Phil’s mind. “Thanks.”

         Phil handed him the book. “I think this is the right one at any rate.” He watched as Bear turned it over, reading the back cover. A sticky-note stuck out of the top of one of the pages, black writing bleeding through the paper. Bear opened the book to the page, pulling the note off and reading it silently. Phil had antagonized over it long enough to have the words memorized.

        _You don’t have to buy books or pretend to like plants to talk to me._

       Bear’s eyes widened a fraction. He stared at the note for a moment, Phil feeling his mouth start to run dry. Maybe he had overstepped a line. Maybe he’d interpreted it all wrong. Maybe Bear—

      Phil’s thoughts were cut off as Bear grabbed the sticky-notes sitting on his desk along with a black sharpie. He uncapped it, scribbling something on the top of one of the notes. He dropped the pad on the table once he had finished, flipping it so that Phil could read the writing.

      _Do you want to go to Starbucks?_

      Phil felt the corners of his lips begin to curl into a smile. Relief started to overtake some of the worry, and despite the fact that his lunch break hadn’t even been half an hour ago the thought that he’d do anything less than go was ridiculous. He met Bear’s eyes, holding out his hand. Bear dropped the marker into his palm, biting his lip as his eyes darted to the nearest exit—the window behind Phil’s desk.

        _Just let me lock up_ _._

       He detached the note from the rest of the pad, sticking to Bear’s hand. Bear made a face, sticking out his tongue and wrinkling his nose comically as he pulled it off. Without waiting to see his reaction, Phil grabbed his coat and the keys. He flipped the off-switch for the lamp on his desk, heading for the door. Bear folded the note, slipping it into his pocket and following Phil to the door.

      “After you,” Phil said grandly, opening the door with a bow. Bear rolled his eyes, shaking his head with a small smile as he ducked through. Phil hit the light switch, locking the door behind him.

      Bear shoved his hands into his pockets, falling into step beside Phil as he began to walk. “Am I interrupting anything?” He winced. “I guess it’s a bit late now anyway, soz.”

     “It’s a Tuesday,” Phil said by way of explanation.

      “I think I hate Tuesdays more than Mondays,” Bear said after a moments pause. “The thing is, you _expect_ Mondays to suck. Wednesday is the half-way mark. Thursday is so close to Friday, and Friday is self-explanatory. But _Tuesday_ …” he shuddered in mock horror. “There’s not really a point, is there? It’s a second Monday except worse because everyone forgets about it.”

       “Poor Tuesdays,” Phil teased. “They must be feeling so neglected about all this hate directed towards them. What did they ever do to you?”

       “Exist,” Bear snorted. “Come on, there has to be a part of you somewhere that hates Tuesdays.”

        “I’m all for equality,” Phil shrugged, smirking. “No need to be prejudice.” He picked up the pace the last couple of steps, reaching the door first and pulling it open.

       “Thanks,” Bear said.

        Maybe it was because of Phil’s logic that Tuesdays were bad business days that Starbucks was always so busy. If what Bear had said was true about hating Tuesdays, he figured that it stood to reason that people spent most of their money on coffee to get them through the rest of the day.

       “So based on your logic is it just Tuesdays you hate?”

       “Thursdays are pretty bad too,” Bear said. “What’s your reasoning on hating days of the week?”

       “I don’t really hate any day of the week,” Phil said.

       “Come off it,” Bear said incredulously. “There has to be at least _one_ day that you don’t like. Unless you’re freaking Mother Teresa or something,” he added.

      “Tuesdays and Thursdays then,” Phil answered. “Or any day I guess beginning with a _t_ and ending with a _y._ ”

      “Can we sit over there?” Bear asked, jerking his chin towards the tables nearest the window.

       Phil followed his gaze, freezing. If he blinked the girl was standing by the window again, her eyes dark and broken. _Do you believe in soulmates?_

      “Okay,” he said, forcing the words to sound as close to sincere as he could from insincere lips. He threw his coat over one of the chairs, pulling it out gingerly. Bear sat in the seat next to him, oblivious to Phil’s growing discomfort and claustrophobia.

        _If you’re the last one standing make sure you can handle it._

“Shut up,” he said aloud.

       “What?”

       “Sorry,” Phil muttered. “Nothing.” He blinked furiously a couple of times, as if an action as simple as blinking was going to help anything. “The line doesn’t look that bad,” he said lamely, once again demonstrating his complete inability to change conversation topics. “Do you want to go and order?” At Bear’s nod Phil walked towards the counter, joining the back of the line and waiting.

      A couple of minutes later, Phil was seated again and popping the lid off of the top of his drink.

      “Third cup and still going strong,” he said, rolling the stir stick between his fingers.

       “I don’t like coffee that much actually,” Bear said. “Like, every now and then its fine but I don’t drink it daily like most people.”

      “What kind of abomination are you?” Phil asked in mock horror. “Coffee is _the_ sacred beverage. Then again,” he added. “This is coming from the one who hates cheese.”

       “You hate cheese?” Bear stared at him, looking utterly shell-shocked. “How is that even possible? What kind of sadist could hate cheese?”

       “I don’t know! It doesn’t bother me when it’s on pizza, but cheese on toast…”

       “Cheese on toast? Is that even a thing?”

       “My mum used to make it,” Phil said, pulling a face. “It was awful.”

       “What’s wrong?” Bear asked, frowning. His brown eyes were sharp as they searched Phil’s, and he thought he could detect a hint of concern although that could’ve just been wishful thinking.

       “Nothing, I’m just—”

       “Tired,” Bear finished, subjecting Phil to a doubtful look. “Right.”

        “It’s nothing,” Phil repeated, desperately wishing for some way for him to travel back in time and kick himself before he had opened his mouth.

       “You might be good at other people’s feelings but you’re shit at your own,” Bear said bluntly. “Stop discounting how you feel all of the time.”

      “Remember the girl I told you about a while back?”

      “The one with no words? Her soulmate was named Anna or something?”

       “Yeah,” Phil said quietly. From Bear’s slight nod it was clear that he understood.

       “Sometimes all we can do is notice and try not to make the same mistakes,” Bear said.

       “You can’t help you who fall in love with.”

       “I’m not saying you shouldn’t fall in love or whatever. I think the whole soulmates thing comes down to the person and how much they’re willing to risk.”

        Bear’s statement was so eerily familiar to the one made by the girl that Phil had to turn his gaze to the table top. “Yeah,” he said finally. “Thank you.”

       “So, Cat,” Bear leaned back in his seat, seemingly deciding that a subject change was the wisest decision. “You work at _Ink and Quill_ where Tuesdays are the least busy days and the coffee is crap, you love coffee, you come to Starbucks regularly, you studied English and Linguistics and Psychology, you apparently sign your name with cat whiskers, you like reading, anime, and you hate cheese.”

       Phil raised an eyebrow, adding onto the topic gratefully. “I’m impressed.” Part of him felt flattered that Bear evidently thought he was interesting enough to remember the little bits of random trivia that Phil had revealed over the course of the past month. “You study law although you don’t like it and the only reason you chose it was because you thought it would make you look clever and employable, you like Winnie the Pooh, you hate Tuesdays, you attend uni in Manchester, you like books, manga and anime but you don’t really like coffee and plants aren’t really your thing.”

       “The lesson we’ve learned from today is that we’ve both apparently been stalking the other for the past month,” Bear remarked dryly.

       “I think it’s clear that I studied the wrong thing and that you need to quit law school and switch majors,” Phil quipped. He took a sip from his cup before continuing, the burning liquid of the coffee stinging his throat. “Clearly we were both meant to be stalkers.”

       “Because a stalker is definitely a socially accepted position,” Bear laughed. “Don’t think that’d look good on a resume.”

        “It’s not all about the resume,” Phil pointed out fairly. “There are lots of things you can do with your life that aren’t all about college.”

        Bear shrugged, making a noncommittal noise. “Maybe for some people.” His body language as he crossed his arms made it clear that further conversation on the subject of college wouldn’t be welcome. “It feels a little strange to call you Cat out loud,” he said. “Are there any other things you hate besides cheese that I should know about? Might as well get the shock over all at once.”

     “Cheese is the biggest one,” Phil said after a moments pause. “There are a couple of smaller things, but that’s pretty much it.”

      “Like what?”

      “Horses,” he answered. “I hate horses. You?”

      “You have to promise not to laugh,” Bear said warningly.

      “I won’t laugh at you,” Phil promised. _I never would._

      “The dark,” Bear said, already cringing. “Trees, moths, the girl from the ring, the girl from the ring in a tree in the dark.”

       “Isn’t the tree one a little hard?” Phil asked with a straight face.

        “I can tell you want to laugh,” Bear grumbled. “Go ahead, laugh away.”

        “I told you I wouldn’t laugh at you,” Phil said. “And I’m not going to. I’m hardly in a position myself. Moths are terrifying anyway, but horses? There’s nothing terrifying about them.”

        “To be fair, some horses are pretty fucking huge,” Bear said. “You could get trampled. Or fall off and break your neck. Or have a horse bite off your finger when you’re trying to feed it. Or have a horse run away when you’re on its back.”

       “Way to make me feel better.”

        “I try,” Bear said. “Is that there just to look at or?” he trailed off, eyeing the cinnamon roll sitting on the table in front of him.

       “Just for aesthetic,” Phil said with a smile, pushing the plate further towards Bear.

        “Did you finish _Death Note_?” Bear asked, his brow furrowing in concentration as he cut the roll carefully down the middle.

       “No, I’m sorry,” Phil winced. “I promise I’ll have it finished soon. You can have it back if you want.”

        “Keep it,” Bear said dismissively. “Well, not forever, but until you’re done.”

        “Have you seen the anime?” Phil asked.

         “I’ve been a little afraid to,” Bear admitted. “I’ve watched other anime obviously but I’ve heard mixed reviews about _Death Note_ and I don’t want it to be ruined.”

       “I’ll make a deal with you,” Phil said. “I’ll finish reading the manga, and you have to watch _Death Note_ with me.”

      “Deal,” Bear agreed, smiling. “Should we shake on it?” He held out his hand, Phil shaking it. It might’ve been his imagination, but Bear’s hand seemed to linger a little longer than was necessary as he pulled away. “Any other random facts?”

        “I dye my hair,” Phil said, readjusting said fringe. “I tried to bleach it once, and it turned ginger. Normally it’s a light gingery brown shade, but I don’t think I look very good with hair that’s a lighter color.”

       “Because now your hair is too black for this world,” Bear said, pitching his voice lower and warping it. “We’re both lying hair-wise,” he added in his normal voice. “My hair is naturally very curly.”

      “Like Frodo Baggins?”

      “Hobbit hair,” Bear said. “I hate it.” He cast Phil an envious look. “Do you even need to straighten your hair? It looks quite blocky, can I just take your hair and put it on my head?”

      “Might be a little challenging,” Phil said fairly. “But you’re welcome to try if you want to. Fair warning, if you take the hair I’m giving you the eyesight as well.”

      “You wear glasses?”

       “I have my contacts in right now. I could see you with glasses,” Phil said, trying to suppress a smile.

       “Ha,” Bear rolled his eyes, lapsing into quiet. He tore off a piece of his half of the roll, offering Phil the plate.

       “Do you have family here? Manchester is a fair distance from London.”

       “No, not exactly,” Bear said. “I just like the city really. How long have you lived here?”

       “Couple of years,” Phil said. “I was already doing some work at _Ink and Quill_ during uni, but after I graduated it became my job at least for now. Where are you thinking of living?”

        “I like London,” Bear said thoughtfully. “And basically everybody that I know lives in London.”

       “I live in London,” Phil joked. “What other reason do you need?”

       “Exactly,” Bear said, taking another drink and obscuring his face so that Phil couldn’t see his expression. He set the cup down, resting his elbows on the table.

       “You could always come and live with me if you needed to until you found a place to live.” Some part of Phil was conscious of what he’d just offered, but the question had seemed to spill from his lips without any control on his part. All he knew was that it was too late to take it back, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

       Bear’s face lit up. “Thank you,” he said, something in his smile seeming to return to the first couple days of their friendship, a nervousness that was bordering on shyness. “You don’t have to offer though if you’re not comfortable. Really, I wouldn’t want to impose on you and there are other places where I could go.”

       “If I hadn’t been sure then I wouldn’t have offered,” Phil said firmly.

       “In that case, thank you Cat.”

        “I’m serious, if you ever need anything let me know.”

        “As a broke university student I don’t think there’s a whole lot I can do that’ll help you in any way, but if there is I will.”

       “You pretended to like plants and even bought books about them from _Ink and Quill_ in order to visit,” Phil said. “I think that’s payment enough.”

       “Do you believe in happy endings?” Bear asked, something in his voice changing subtly.

       “As in, ‘they all lived happily ever?’” Bear nodded. “I’d like to think that they exist, but if they do not then everyone gets one. If the whole point of this ‘soulmates’ thing is that we’ll find the person we’re supposedly destined to be with then I think it’s a pretty shitty system if you inevitably break up or die once you find them.” He paused for air, casting Bear a sheepish look. “Sorry, I got a little carried away. Do you?”

       Instead of answering Bear pulled his phone out of his pocket, turning it on. “I should probably stop procrastinating and go work on revision,” he said. “Which really means go on the internet for the next four hours.” He stood, shoving his phone back into his pocket. “I’ll see you later?”

        The hopeful note in the question was enough to make Phil smile. “Of course,” he said. “Oh, and Bear?” The university student paused, looking back over his shoulder with a questioning glance. “Thank _you_ and good luck.”


	6. Chapter Six

   Somehow, Bear had managed to become an constant presence during Phil’s time at Ink and Quill. By this point it had become habit for him to look up at any given moment and spy the university student duck through the door with a thoughtful expression and a cryptic statement ready to spill from his lips with the right question. Not that Phil minded, exactly. Sometimes he felt he lived for the stolen hour or two with Bear, whether it was at the shop or the chance meeting at Starbucks.  
      Phil wasn’t sure when he first noticed that Bear had stopped visiting. It had been less of a conscious realization and more of a subconscious observation along with an intuitive feeling that something was wrong.  
        It was strange, he reflected, how much of a difference the absence of one unnamed customer could make when it came to determining how good of a day he was having.  
        While Phil knew it was stupid, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. He was hardly one to inflate his own self-importance, but after spending the past couple of months religiously visiting both Phil and Ink and Quill it seemed uncharacteristic of Bear to simply get up and leave without an explanation. And though Phil supposed that beyond what little Bear volunteered he didn’t really know who Bear was at all, if Bear was anything like he acted like he was the move was strange even for someone as unpredictable as he was.  
        But as Phil didn’t even have a name to work with, he tried to push it to the back of his mind. It wasn’t like there was anything he could do about it anyway.

        Wednesday lunch with Daisy and Liam had become another part of Phil’s weekly routine. Liam worked within walking distance of Ink and Quill, and Daisy was working an apprenticeship a couple of blocks away.  
         If Daisy was short and blonde Liam was the polar opposite with black hair, dark eyes, and to the day remained one of the only people Phil knew that was taller than he was.  
      “It’s funny,” Liam said in a manner that hinted that what he was about to say wasn’t really amusing at all. “–Everyone thinks of pizza as being a Italian, but really we’ve made it into more of a deal than it actually is in Italy.”  
        “Kind of like fish and chips?” Daisy said dryly. “It is more of a British thing, but we eat other things too. If you listened to some people talk you’d think it was the only food that existed in England.”  
         “I don’t even like fish and chips that much,” Liam said. “I guess that means I can’t be British anymore.”  
          “The Queen’s going to evict you if you’re not careful,” Daisy said, stonefaced. She reached out, poking Phil’s arm. “Anybody home?”  
         Phil startled. “What?”  
         “I asked if anyone was home,” Daisy repeated, frowning slightly. “Is something wrong?”  
         “No,” Phil said automatically. “Why do you ask?”  
         “You’ve been distant lately, like you’re not really here. Liam’s said your name a couple of times and you didn’t even hear him. Is this about the words?” she asked gently.  
         “No,” he said. “For once, it’s not.”  
          “What’s up then?” Liam asked to Phil’s surprise. Normally Daisy was the one that asked the questions while he listened.  
         “Nothing,” Phil said quickly–too quickly. Daisy’s eyes narrowed and Liam gave him a disbelieving look.”I’m tired, it’s been a busy week.”  
         “Don’t lie to us, Phil,” Daisy said. “Who is it?”  
         “How do you know it has anything to do with a person?” Phil asked, thrown.  
          Daisy grinned triumphantly. “I didn’t, so thanks for telling me.” She shrugged, leaning back in her seat with an air of satisfaction. “What else what it be? Well? Who is it?”  
         “Nobody,” Phil mumbled, ducking his head as he took another bite of pizza.  
         “You’re blushing,” Daisy observed lightly. “What’s his name?”  
         Phil almost spat out the bite he had just taken. “His? How the hell did you–”  
         “We’ve been friends since primary school,” Liam interrupted. “We met Daisy in secondary school. You’d have to blind or oblivious or both not to at least suspect.”  
          “When did you find out?” Phil managed to choke out, gaping at the duo.  
          “I think we were in year ten?” Liam said thoughtfully. “You were dating Anna at that point, and you had to ask us if we thought she was pretty. Multiple times,” he added.  
          “You were saying?” Daisy asked sweetly.  
          “Right,” Phil blinked, clearing his throat awkwardly. He had always prided himself on his ability to conceal certain parts of his personality, but apparently he wasn’t as good as it as he’d thought he was. “It’s really not a big deal.”  
         “What color are his eyes?:” Daisy asked, plowing through Phil’s remark as though he hadn’t said anything.  
         “Brown,” Phil said slowly. “Why?”  
         “I’m curious,” she said innocently. “Besides, I like eyes. They tell you a lot about a person.”  
        “It doesn’t matter,” he said firmly, hoping she’d pick up on the hint and drop it. Then again, giving in had never been Daisy’s strong suit.  
        “Where did you meet him?” Liam asked, seemingly deciding to join in on the interrogation. While Phil supposed that calling it an interrogation was a bit of a stretch, he couldn’t think of a better term. He let his eyes flicker shut for a moment, sucking in a long breath of air and holding it until he felt his lungs start to burn.  
          “He came into Ink and Quill a month or two ago,” Phil said, trying to keep his tones as even and emotionless as he could.  
          “Do you know his name?” Liam asked not unkindly.  
          “No,” Phil snapped, closing his eyes again as he gritted his teeth together. “Sorry,” he muttered. He heard Daisy sigh, and though he wasn’t watching he could feel the look Daisy and Liam were doubtless exchanging from over his head.  
         “Phil,” Daisy began gently. “I know it’s hard, but if you don’t try and enjoy the incredibly short time we have here then–”  
          “Except I can’t and I’m never going to be able to,” Phil opened his eyes, hearing his voice start to escalate in volume. “How the hell am I supposed to take advantage of ‘what time I have left’ when I’m forced to hide the entire time?”  
          “You don’t have to hide all of the time,” Liam said. “The world is filled with opportunities and–”  
          “People named Dan?” Phil cut him off, finishing the sentence. He felt the corner of his lips tug up in a grim, humorless smile. “It doesn’t matter anyway,” he continued bitterly. “Apparently not even my own soulmate thinks I matter enough to stick around.”  
         Daisy’s eyes were sad as they met his. “Is that really what you think?” Phil shrugged, crossing his arms and ripping his gaze away from hers, turning it to the table.  
        “You know what,” Liam said abruptly. “Fuck the soulmates. Yeah, maybe things don’t work out exactly the way you want. So what? It’s not like the world’s going to end because someone got into it with their soulmate. The universe isn’t going to stop existing because of someone and their little problems. And that’s okay. What isn’t okay is for you to spend the rest of your life moping around and feeling like shit when chances are you’re never going to meet them.”  
       Phil shrugged again, neither confirming nor denying Liam’s statement. The thing was, he knew what Liam and Daisy’s words were. Liam could preach all he wanted to about the world not stopping for someone’s little problems when his words were I love you.  
       “Phil,” Daisy said quietly. “Please listen to me. You think anyone is happy with the soulmates system? We all hate it as much as you do, but there isn’t anything we can do about it. Some people lucked out more than others, but either way we’re still losing the person who was supposed to mean the most to us. That’s not easy regardless of what words you have. But Liam’s right. You can’t spend the rest of your life shut away from the rest of the world in your flat or inside of Ink and Quill. Because that’s not living.”  
         “Break’s over,” Phil said cooly, checking his phone. He stood, grabbing his coat.  
         “Phil….”  
         “What?”  
        “At least take a slice of pizza with you,” Liam said. Grudgingly, Phil grabbed his napkin, wrapping a piece of pizza in it. He started to reach for his wallet when Liam cut him off. “I’ll pay, don’t worry about it.”  
        Phil nodded shortly. “Thank you.” He started towards the door, letting it slam shut behind him as he stepped out onto the street. He shoved his hands in his pockets, letting out a breath through his teeth and closing his eyes. The sounds of London continued to buzz around him, conversations, taxi cabs, laughing. Normally the knowledge that life would go on without him was reassuring, but now he wasn’t so sure. In the end, did it really matter who lived and who didn’t?

…

     Once a month, Phil got Fridays off. Zac was a second or something or other cousin once removed from the owners of Ink and Quill, and he took over the care of the shop for the last Friday of every month. It gave Phil the opportunity for a longer weekend, which was usually something that he liked.  
      But after spending his three supposed days of relaxation avoiding Daisy and Liam, worrying about Bear probably more than he should’ve or had a right to, and avoiding everyone in general Phil was more than relieved to return to Ink and Quill come Monday.  
       The first thing he noticed was the book setting neatly on the edge of his desk. Heart thumping in his chest, Phil snatched it up without bothering to take off his coat. A letter written on yellow stationary was slid inside of the cover.  
       Hey Phil,  
This university student said to give this to you, he said you knew him and that his name was Bear or something like that.  
      Zac  
     Phil turned the book over, reading the cover. The Hobbit, a book that he’d read more times than he could count. He opened it, flipping through the pages even though he knew that he wasn’t going to find anything.  
      Phil closed the book, staring at it for a moment before opening the drawer where he stored the rest of Bear’s notes. He set the letter and book into the drawer before slamming it shut.

…

       Footsteps approached Phil’s desk, followed by a sheepish and tentative voice. “Hey.”  
       Phil didn’t have to look up to know who it was. “Hi.”  
       “So…um…” Bear winced, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “Hey.”  
       “You’ve already said that,” Phil said not unkindly.  
       “You’re probably wondering where I’ve been,” Bear began. Phil shrugged. He had, actually, but he had no intention of letting Bear know.  
         “I guess I just assumed you had other things going on,” he said simply.  
        Bear gave a noncommittal nod. “I missed London,” he said, directing his words to the ceiling as he tilted his head back. “And Ink and Quill.” The corner of his lips quirked up. “And I missed you too, a little.” While even two days ago Bear’s words would’ve made him flush and smile, all he felt instead was a sense of slight panic.  
         “Is there anything I can help you with?” Phil asked politely.  
         Bear frowned. “What’s wrong?”  
         “Why does everyone think something’s wrong?” Phil asked irritably. “Are you looking for something in particular?”  
         “Stop,” Bear said, his tone cold.  
         “Stop what?” Phil asked, raising an eyebrow.  
          “Are you pissed at me or something?”  
          “No,” Phil said, although they both knew that that was a blatant lie. “Stop what?” he repeated.  
         Bear wrinkled his nose, making a face. “I’ve never seen you act like this before,” he said finally.  
        “What you don’t know about me could fill a book,” Phil said, the words coming out harsher than he’d intended.  
         Bear’s eyes darkened. “I don’t like it,” he said bluntly.  
         Phil stared at him, shocked into silence. Out of all of the reactions he could’ve anticipated, this had been one of the last. “Is there anything I can help you with?” he asked coldly.  
         “Yeah, there is.” Bear’s eyes had lost none of their intensity as they met Phil’s. “One of my friends is having her birthday and I was going to ask you if you wanted to come with me.”  
         “Isn’t your friend going to mind?”  
         “You’re supposed to bring a date,” Bear said, the top of his cheekbones starting to flush. “Not as a date,” he added hastily. “But you’re bringing me to Muse. It’s a pretty shitty substitute, but I thought maybe you’d want to come.” He straightened. “Obviously not.”  
        “Wait.” Phil bit his lip, weighing the options. He could say no, play it safe and brush Bear off completely. At this point it wasn’t even about him as much anymore, if he said no he was protecting Bear as well. On the other hand, he could say yes. “Fine,” he agreed, almost regretting the decision the moment he announced it. “I’ll go if you’d like.” He didn’t regret his choice for two reasons, one was because as much as he resented Daisy and Liam’s criticisms maybe they had a point and two was because it was Bear. Ever since he had first stepped into Ink and Quill almost two months ago Phil had been unable to say no. He had lost his chance to cut Bear from his life a long time ago.  
          “Really?” Bear’s expression was one of surprise, mixed with something that looked like gratification to Phil and another emotion that he couldn’t place.  
         “Really,” Phil said, resigned. He gave a small smile, sending a silent prayer to any and all religions he could think of that he wouldn’t live to regret the decision. Or he supposed that he could always die. Then regret wouldn’t be an issue.  
         “We’ll have to leave this Friday,” Bear warned. “My friend said we can stay at his house for the night and head back Sunday morning.”  
         “That’s fine if you’re sure he’d not going to mind.”  
          “He doesn’t care,” Bear shrugged. He smiled. “Did you get my book?”  
         “Zac left it,” Phil said.  
          “You didn’t look at it, did you?” Bear asked suspiciously. “Open it.”  
         Phil pulled the book out of the drawer, opening it to a page at random. Throughout the book, Bear had highlighted certain phrases and words. “Where there’s life there’s hope,” he read aloud. He looked up at Bear curiously.  
         “It’s my favorite book,” Bear said wistfully. “That used to be my copy.”  
         “Here, keep it,” Phil started, reaching to hand Bear the book.  
        He waved Phil away. “I want you to have it,” he said. “Read it again, there are a couple of things I wrote in and highlighted that I think you might enjoy.”  
        “Thank you,” Phil said. He gently sat the book back in the drawer, looking up at Bear.“Do you want to go to Starbucks?”  
        Bear smiled. “I’d love to.”

…

     The two were sitting at their usual table, watching as a group of people sat at a table, laughing about something and talking over each other.  
      “What do you think they’re talking about?” Phil asked. It had become one of their games to pick a person or multiple people and invent a persona.  
      “Where to hide the body,” Bear said. He jerked his chin towards a man around the same age as Phil. “He’s saying that they should eat it.”  
       “Or dress as it,” Phil suggested.  
       Bear laughed, rolling his eyes. “Dress as a corpse? Don’t you think that’d smell?”  
      “That’s the penalty for murder,” Phil said. “You have to go around smelling like a dead body for the rest of your life.”  
       “I think I’d rather take a bullet to the head,” Bear said. He took a swig from his cup, crossing his legs.  
       “I never asked,” Phil began casually. “Where were you? University pick up?”  
       “Something like that,” Bear muttered.  
       “Why do you shut down every time I mention uni?”  
      “I have my reasons,” Bear answered cryptically.  
       Phil laughed. “Mysterious.”  
       “I’m a man of many secrets,” Bear said. “I’ll tell you someday, maybe.”  
      No amount of questioning on Phil’s part could get him to reveal anything more, and eventually he changed the subject to Muse’s new single.


	7. Chapter Seven

    Normally, Phil tried to avoid car trips as much as possible. While he didn’t have motion sickness exactly, there was something about being trapped in a moving vehicle for hours on end that turned his stomach. He rationalized this particular car trip as time spent with Bear, which he privately thought was more than enough compensation.

    Regardless if Bear made the trip worth it or not, the fact of Phil’s car sickness remained the same.  

    “If you’re going to be sick I’ll roll down the window and be sick to that side please,” Bear said, glancing over at him as Phil winced and squeezed his eyes closed. “I’ll be in actual danger of murder if you vomit over my my mum’s car”

    “I’m not going to be sick,” Phil managed with some difficulty. He cleared his throat, wincing as the car hit another bump. Out of all the lovely and easily accessible places to live, it was a shame that Bear’s friends had to live in the countryside. While it fit the description of being lovely, the roads weren’t exactly what Phil would call easily accessible.

   “If it’s about my driving I passed my test,” Bear raised an eyebrow, smirking. “After the seventh time or so.”

   “Please tell me you’re joking.”

    Bear snorted. “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” he said sarcastically as he turned the next bend. “ _Yes_ , obviously I passed the first time. Do you honestly think either of my parents would let me within three feet of the steering wheel otherwise? Why, do you want me to pull over and you can take control?”

     Phil opened his mouth to answer when they drove over another pothole. His mouth snapped shut abruptly and he almost bit off his tongue. “You did that one on purpose.”

     “It’s not my fault they haven’t gotten around to paving the roads yet,” Bear grumbled.

     “You sound like my mum,” Phil remarked.

      “Unlike your mum though, I’m not easy,” Bear said with a smirk.

      “Well you’re easy like your dog!” Phil shot back lamely.

      “Dude, my dog’s dead,” Bear said incredulously.

      “Easy like your dog was,” Phil amended.

      “Dude!”

      “Sorry,” Phil said only partially insincerely. He gave Bear a sideways glance. “I don’t normally think of you as the type to call someone ‘dude.’”

       “That’s probably because I don’t,” Bear said obviously. Without taking his eyes off of the road he grabbed his phone and unlocked it before handing it to Phil. “Don’t read anything on it,” he said threateningly.

      “Wow, thank you for the phone,” Phil said sarcastically. He made a grand gesture of clutching it to his chest. “I’ll make sure to treasure it forever.”

   “I won’t buy a book from _Ink and Quill_ again if you steal that,” Bear said, the slight glint in his eyes challenging Phil. “You can put on music or something.”

    Phil nodded, tapping the music icon and scrolling down the list of songs. He selected _Welcome to the Black Parade_ , carefully watching Bear’s reaction.

    “Too soon, too soon,” Bear mimed being strangled, bugging his eyes out dramatically and sticking out his tongue. A smile playing at the corner of his lips, Phil skipped the track and nodded in approval as _New Born_ began to play.

    “You have no idea how excited I still am about that by the way,” Bear said as the corner of his mouth curled up.

    “Good,” Phil said truthfully with an answering half-smile of his own. “I don’t think that’s true though. I can’t wait either.”

     “Have you seen them in concert before?”

    “No,” Phil answered. He leaned back slightly in the seat, stretching out his legs as best as he could in the cramped quarters. “I saw some videos on YouTube once, but I think it’ll be a lot better in person.”

     “You never did tell me why you always sign your notes with cat whiskers instead of your name,” Bear said casually. “You just sort of evaded the question with another question.”

     “One of my many talents,” Phil snorted, rolling his eyes. “I think the question is why not? My favorite animal is probably a lion,” he added a touch thoughtfully. “I guess that could have something to do with it. No one’s called me Cat except you though.” Phil tensed, watching Bear from the corner of his gaze, waiting for the question of what everyone else called him. Surprisingly, it never came.

      “The Bear nickname was mostly from Pooh,” Bear said. “My favorite animal’s actually an alpaca.”

     “Not a llama?”

     “Alpacas are nicer than llamas are,” Bear answered. “Llamas are fine too, but…” he trailed off, biting his lip as his eyes narrowed slightly, turning a bend in the road. “Are you hungry?”

      “Kind of,” Phil admitted. He crossed his arms, his head lolling to the left as the car abruptly turned another corner. “Why?”

     “Do you want to stop yet?”

     “I’m fine for a bit longer,” Phil said. “Are you?”

     “I’ll give it a little,” Bear said. “Did you finish reading _The Hobbit_?”

    “I skimmed it,” Phil said. “I didn’t have time to read the whole thing though, but your notes were definitely interesting.”

     “You don’t make it sound like that’s a good thing,” Bear raised an eyebrow.

    “I never said it wasn’t,” Phil defended, a light smile quirking up the corner of his mouth. “It was interesting to read another perspective while I was reading the book at the same time. I am going to finish it as soon as I can, though. Promise.”

      “And are you a man of your word?” Bear smirked.

     “Bet on it,” Phil said, cringing once the words had left his lips.

     “Bet on me,” Bear sang, surprisingly on-key. “Really? High school musical?”

    “Says the one who started singing along,” Phil shot back.

     “Guilty as charged,” Bear threw his hands in the air mockingly.

     “Put–Don’t take your hands off of the wheel!”

     “Look ma, no hands!” Bear raised his hands even further in the air for emphasis, the smirk on his face widening at the undoubtedly horrified expression on Phil’s face.

     “If we die you’re paying for my funeral,” Phil grumbled, trying to keep the act of irritation.

     “There is a thing called driving with your knees,” Bear said, lowering his hands and gripping the steering wheel again. “You happy?” he asked sarcastically.

      “Possibly.”

      “I live to serve,” Bear said in mock theatrical tones. He gave a sweeping bow, or as close as an imitation as he could get with the cramped space between the seat and the steering wheel. “Your wish is my command.”

      “As it should be,” Phil nodded, keeping a straight face. His eyes flickered to meet Bear’s, and he felt his expression falter. Bear cracked a smile, the dimple popping out in his cheek as he did so. “You can call me Prince Philip,” he added.

    “That wasn’t enough was it, you just had to go and promote yourself to royalty too didn’t you?” Bear asked dryly.

     “I already am royalty,” Phil said, giving a snotty tone of voice his best imitation.

      “No just…don’t even try. You can’t pull it off, you know you can’t.”

     “There is no success without failure first,” Phil said with as much dignity as he could muster.

     “Who said that one?”

    “I did.”

     “Are you going to be the next Confucius?”

     “One could say I’m going to be a _Phil_ -osopher,” Phil paused for effect, unable to disguise the grin at Bear’s following look of exasperation.

      “Jesus Christ,” Bear muttered, pressing a hand to his temple in exasperation. “Your puns are awful.”

      “Are you saying they’re not punny?”

      “Stop it,” Bear said, laughing as he shook his head. “Don’t try.”

…

    Although Phil considered Bear to be one of his best friends he didn’t know much of anything about him aside from the facts that he studied law, liked The Hobbit, and listened to Muse. Then again, the criteria for being Phil’s friend was hardly difficult to meet mostly because it didn’t exist.

    He supposed that going on a trip with a virtual stranger wasn’t the smartest choice he’d ever made, but for some reason unknown to him Phil trusted Bear.

    After a brief stop at some obscure gas station and a cup of lukewarm coffee, Bear continued driving while Phil calculated the rest of the route. As he put the map away, Phil figured that if all went well they’d easily arrive before midnight. He’d offered to take a turn driving multiple times, but Bear had stubbornly refused.

     “What’s your favorite color?” Phil asked conversationally, figuring that with the rest of the drive ahead of them he might as well take the opportunity to get to know Bear a little better.

     “My favorite color?” Bear repeated. “Probably purple, or a kind of beige/brown. I like any of the earth tones. You?”

      “I like purple too, but I think blue’s still my favorite. The most generic favorite color in the world,” Phil laughed. “Sounds about right.”

     “There’s nothing about you that’s generic in the slightest,” Bear said. “You’re one of the creativest people I know.”

     “Thank you. You are too.”

     “What, creative?” Bear made a face. “Not really, but thanks anyway I guess.”

     “I’m serious,” Phil insisted. “The things you wrote in _The Hobbit_ , even just having a conversation with you. You’re more creative and intelligent than you give yourself credit for.”

     Bear made a dubious noise, shrugging as he changed the subject. “What’s your favorite book?” he asked. “You know mine already.”

     “That’s hard,” Phil sucked in a breath through his teeth, his mind instantly blanking. “Now you’ve made me forget every book I’ve ever read. I don’t know,” he said finally. “I can’t think of one that I like better than the others. If I ever decide I’ll let you know. What do you like about _The Hobbit_?”

     “Some of it’s explained in the notes,” Bear answered. “But I think it’s that overall I like the general message of the story. You take this character who for his entire life has lived this one, sheltered existence and who doesn’t want to take any risks or do anything out of the ordinary. After some convincing and when he actually does join the dwarves on their quest, though he does miss his home he also adapts and changes and realizes that maybe an adventure every now and then isn’t the worst thing in the world. I guess in my opinion it’s saying that anyone can be a hero given the right circumstances.”

     “I like that,” Phil said, smiling. “Anyone can be a hero.”

    “Do you want to eat before it gets too late?” Bear asked.

     Phil glanced down at his phone, his eyes scanning the time. “Sure.”

    “Fair warning–there aren’t a lot of options on this stretch of the road,” Bear said. “Anything we find is probably going to be crappy and mediocre at best.”

     “Good, because now I’m counting on it,” Phil said.

…

     In the end, Bear’s warning had proven itself to be true. The pizza was neither hot nor exceptional by any stretch of the imagination, but Phil was hungry enough that it seemed like the best piece of pizza he’d ever eaten.

    “I think I discovered the secret,” Bear said from across the table.

    “And what’s that?”

    “If you’re hungry enough anything tastes good.”

    “Even crappy, mediocre pizza.”

    “Even that,” Bear said, laughing softly as he reached for another slice.

     “Would you ever want to be an author?” Phil asked.

    “I’m not good enough at writing to make it as an author,” Bear said. “You?”

     “I have a blog,” Phil said, the admission surprising himself. The blog wasn’t something that anyone knew about apart from him. He hadn’t even told Daisy and Liam about it. “I don’t use it that much, but sometimes I’ll write something on it.”

   “What’s the URL?” Bear asked. “If you’re comfortable that is,” he added quickly.

   “Next time we get near a computer I’ll show you,” Phil said.

   “I thought about starting something like that once,” Bear said. “I’m a procrastinator anyway, and it’s not like I have a ton of time with university.”

   “How is uni by the way?”

    “Fine,” Bear scowled.

    “Doesn’t sound like it,” Phil said tentatively. His attempts to ask Bear about university hadn’t gone well previously.

     “It’s…” Bear let his words dangle in the air to disperse as he laced his fingers together. “It’s fine I guess,” he said. “I just–I don’t know if I want to spend the rest of my life in a court.”

    “Take a break,” Phil suggested. “You could always do a gap year if you’re not sure to think about what you really want to do with your life.”

     “That’s the thing,” Bear said darkly. “I don’t know what I want to do with the rest of my life. What if I make the wrong decisions? For all I know maybe I’m supposed to become an astronaut and discover a hidden planet.”

     “As long as you make the decision that makes you happiest it won’t be the wrong one,” Phil said firmly. “And even if it does turn out to be the wrong one, it’s never too late to go back and make different choices. Say you do finish law school and after a couple of years you decide that you’re not happy being a lawyer. It’s not going to be too late to change your mind. People do it all of the time.”

     “I guess,” Bear said, the uncertainty not gone from his voice.

     “I still don’t know what I want to do with my life and I’ve been out of uni for a couple of years,” Phil said. “Just remember that what you decide at eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty one, even older doesn’t have to dictate the rest of your life if you’re unhappy with it.”

     “Have you ever thought about being a therapist?” Bear asked wryly. “Dr. Phil.”

     “Ha,” Phil rolled his eyes. “For several reasons, no.”

     “I could see you as a shrink. You could even make it official and start your own show. ‘The British Dr. Phil,’” Bear teased lightly.

     “And again, no.”

     “First it was philosopher, now it’s counselor. Jack of all trades aren’t you?”

     “Of course,” Phil said sarcastically. “You can be my assistant.”

     “I’m flattered,” Bear smiled. The smile vanished as he rested his weight on his elbows, leaning on the table and meeting Phil squarely in the eyes. “Thank you, Cat. For everything.”

…

     Phil had always been partial to night more than day. There was a certain peace in the quiet of night that was absent during the day. There was the added bonus that any traces of motion sickness usually vanished once night fell. The sun had long since set, casting both the car and it’s surroundings in shadow. Quiet music drifted out of the car speakers, and aside from the odd word here and there any conversation had quieted between Bear and Phil.

     Phil turned his head, looking out of the window as the road flew by underneath them. Even apart from his car sickness, any kind of transportation always left him feeling slightly strange. When he was younger he had thought that the trees were moving while the car was standing still, and even though he knew better now he still couldn’t shake the feeling on occasion.

     The entire crash happened before Phil had time to register what had happened. The screech of tires on pavement, a shout from Bear as he frantically slammed his foot on the brakes, the flash of silver as the truck in front of them veered off to the side, Bear’s hand slipping into his, and the feeling of his heartbeat in the back of his throat as Phil shut his eyes and held his breath.

…

     Everything was gray, the air itself was toxic and coated the surroundings in a layer of ash and exhaust. The car had been reduced to a heap of wrecked metal and shattered glass, smoke rising from underneath the hood. The two inhabitants who had been in the car were buried and nowhere to be seen. The road was quiet and for a moment, everything was silent.

    Phil Lester emerged from the wreckage coughing and sputtering, blinking rapidly and desperately trying to unstick his eyelids. He hit the pavement hard, rolling to the side and collapsing in a heap. He stumbled to his feet, staggering sideways as he tried to regain his balance. A gash on his leg was weeping blood, and cuts littered the rest of his skin, glass protruding from some of them.

     None of that was on Phil’s immediate attention.

    “Bear!” He called out hoarsely, wincing and pressing a hand to his throat as the rasp of his voice came out harsh and rough. There was no answer to his call, and Phil tried again. “Bear!” His eyes swept the scene frantically. He was sure to an onlooker that he must look crazy, and he wasn’t sure he could deny that fact.

     Phil stumbled towards the driver’s side. Bear was slumped in the seat, blood coating the side of his head and plastering his hair to his face. Phil reached in and unbuckled the seat belt, grabbing Bear and trying to pull him out of the car. He let go and pulled furiously at the door handle, and after tugging the door opened and Bear spilled out onto the road.

     He dropped to his knees, gently grabbing Bear by the shoulders and elevating his head. Phil pulled the ripped fabric of his jacket sleeve down over his hand and pressed it to where he estimated the majority of the blood was coming from. Bear remained motionless in his arms, and eventually Phil abandoned the attempt.

     His breathing was coming in ragged gasps as he fumbled for his pocket, pulling out Bear’s phone which had somehow miraculously remained intact. He laughed aloud, feeling slightly light headed as he fumbled with the power button.

      Bear’s lockscreen opened up and without hesitating Phil typed in a sequence of four numbers, holding his breath as the phone unlocked. He released it shakily, finding the dial pad and entering 999. The phone began ringing and he pressed it against his ear, steadying his grip.

      “Hello?” he asked. In normal circumstances he might have cringed at the way speaking grated against his throat, but his own safety was the furthest thing from his mind. “My friend and I were in a car accident, a bad one. The truck that hit us left and I can’t remember what it looked like but I think once it saw what happened the driver made sure he was out of the way before the police arrived.” Phil knew he was rambling, but he couldn’t seem to stop. He answered the rest of the questions with stiff lips and a growing sense of panic. Phil grabbed for Bear’s wrist, feeling for any sign of a pulse.

    He couldn’t tell whether the heartbeat meant that Bear was still alive or if it was the beating of his own heart, loud enough that it too seemed in danger of giving out. Phil closed his eyes, sliding his hand further down until it gripped Bear’s and thinking that if it were a matter of choice, he’d swap his life for Bear’s any day.


	8. Chapter Eight

      Phil had never understood the stigma against hospitals. Sure, he supposed that they weren’t exactly the cheeriest places in the world, but the hate and dislike for them had always surprised him as hospitals were the places people went to heal.

      Then again, he had never had to visit anyone in the hospital for anything more than a surgery. And as he sat beside Bear, eyes bloodshot and struggling to stay awake as the smell of antiseptics polluted what little air was reaching his lungs, Phil was starting to see that maybe it wasn’t the hospitals themselves people hated as much as what it was they represented. Because while hospitals were a place for people to heal, they were also a place for people to die.

     He scowled, firmly trying to steer his thoughts away from any thoughts of death and dying. While he couldn’t say that he believed in fate necessarily, if it actually did exist he saw no reason to test it. He needed all of the luck he could get.

       Phil reached out and gently grabbed Bear’s hand, stifling a yawn as he turned Bear’s hand over to lay underneath his. He blinked furiously, as if somehow blinking was going to push away the last legs of exhaustion.

       The edge of Bear’s hospital gown rode up slightly, and something scrawled along the lining of the sleeve caught Phil’s eye. He bit his lip, hesitating. While the words weren’t something that most people were as conscious about as Phil was, it still felt wrong to read Bear’s words without his permission.

      Phil was only human though, and ultimately curiosity won over. His hands shaking slightly, (whether from caffeine or nerves he wasn’t sure) Phil slowly reached out and pushed Bear’s sleeve up. He felt his breath catch as he let the sleeve drop back down to cover Bear’s wrist, his teeth gritting together as he closed his eyes. Phil had thought that his own words were bad–and they were–but they were nothing compared to the words on Bear’s wrist.

     It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen or heard of people’s last words being bitter or spiteful before, but for some reason the fact that it was Bear bothered him more. If someone was meant to be your soulmate and the one person who was always there for you, he wondered how they could ever manage to say something so hateful to their ‘perfect match.’ Bear had said that he hadn’t found his soulmate yet, and Phil found himself hoping that he never would.

     Phil leaned back in his chair, his eyes wandering back to the hem of Bear’s sleeve. He swallowed, standing abruptly and leaving without a backwards glance. It was the first time he’d left the hospital room since he’d been discharged from his own, and while he wanted to be there when Bear woke up Phil wasn’t sure how much longer he was going to last.

     The cafeteria was a floor below the hospital room, and never having been one for exercise Phil opted for the lift. He pressed the down button, the doors opening almost immediately. A girl was standing in the corner of the lift, phone in hand. She didn’t give any sign of acknowledgement as Phil stepped in, the doors closing behind him. He pushed the command for the second floor, retreating to the back of the lift and eyeing the girl curiously. There was something about her that seemed familiar. It wasn’t until she glanced up that he realized who she was. It was the girl from Starbucks–Anna’s soulmate.

     “Hey,” he began awkwardly, smiling.

     “Hi.” The girl’s face was expressionless.

      “I don’t know if you remember me, but–”

    “Phil Lester,” the girl raised an eyebrow. “We have to stop meeting like this. What are you doing here?”

     “Meeting like what? I’m here with a friend,” Phil said. “You?”

     “In the middle of sudden catastrophe. And something like that,” the girl muttered.

      “What makes you say catastrophe?“   
         
     "What else would bring you to a hospital? Most people don’t come to admire the scenery.”

     “Point taken,” Phil conceded. “I never got your name.”

    “That’s because I never gave it.”

     “What is it?”

    “Tholia,” the girl said grudgingly. “I’m not sure how that’s any of your business necessarily, but…” Tholia’s next words were cut off as the doors opened, the cafeteria door a couple of feet to the left.

     “Do you want to get a drink with me?” Phil asked tentatively as the two of them stepped out onto the floor. “As friends,” he clarified quickly.

     “Not particularly.”

     “I’ll buy you a coffee,” he offered. He wasn’t sure why it mattered that much to him what Tholia decided one way or the other as Phil was a mediocre conversationalist at best, but he thought that maybe it had something to do with the fact that Tholia was one of the only people he knew that understood what it was like to be fucked over by the soulmates system.

     “The coffee’s shit here anyway.”

     “It’s still caffeine,” Phil said.

      Tholia bit her lip, shoving her phone in her pocket. “Fine,” she agreed finally, following Phil through the doors and into the cafeteria. The coffee pots were sitting on one of the numerous tables lining the walls and Phil grabbed a cup on his way over, pouring a cup of heavily caffeinated coffee and dumping a generous amount of sugar into his drink.

     “I think you might have enough sugar,” Tholia remarked. She added a considerably smaller amount of sugar to her own cup along with creamer from the white bottle sitting beside the coffee pots. Phil grabbed her cup off of the table once she was done, balancing the two coffees as he headed for the register. “I can buy my own, thanks,” she said stiffly.

     “You can go find a seat,” Phil said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. Without giving Tholia time to answer he joined the back of the line.

     Apparently Tholia seemed to have followed his direction, and once Phil was finished he found her sitting by the window with her phone facedown on the table as she watched the traffic pass by on the road below.

     “Everything looks smaller and more insignificant once you add distance,” she said by way of greeting. She accepted the coffee with a brief nod, her eyes not leaving the road outside. “But maybe that’s the way everything works.”

    “How’re you doing?” Phil asked, popping the lid off of his cup and taking a sip. He grimaced into the liquid. _Ink and Quill_ may have shitty coffee, but compared to the hospital’s coffee it was some of the best he’d ever tasted.

     “Is this you trying to be a therapist?” Tholia asked dryly, tearing her gaze away from the window. “I’m doing fine. Who’s your friend?”

     “He’s a university student,” Phil said vaguely.

     “What’s his name?”

     “Bear.”

    Tholia gave him a scrutinizing look from over the top of her cup. “That’s an interesting name.”

    “It’s a nickname actually.”

    “A nickname?” Tholia repeated. She tapped her fingers against her cup as she set it down, subjecting Phil to a critical stare. “What are your words?”

    Phil almost spat out his drink. “What?”

    “You heard me.”

    “I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” he said cooly, recovering.

     “Says you,” she snorted.

     “Nothing too important.”

    “If you say so,” Tholia said. “Take it from someone who thought they were invincible–no one is because nothing about this is fair. Don’t think that by isolating yourself from everyone or going to extreme measures that you’re going to be any safer. Because in the end the inevitable is going to happen regardless of what you do, so you might as well enjoy life while you can.”

    “Are you sure you’re not the one training to become a therapist?”

    “No, although if I were I would be the best one out there.”

    “You seem very confident of that fact,” Phil said.

     “Confidence is good,” Tholia shrugged, taking another sip of her coffee. “Especially because it’s not something you see that much anymore. There are traits that are dying out and have been for a while now, and confidence is one of them.”

   “Where do you work?”

   “I’ve had a couple of jobs,” she answered, a shadow seeming to pass over her expression. “Last one was teaching at a nearby college, but I quit once Anna died.”

    “I’m sorry,” Phil said simply.

     “It’s been a while now anyway,” Tholia said nonchalantly, the stiffness in her movements the only betrayal to the fact that though it might’ve been a while she was far from over it.

     “Still.”

    “Thank you I guess,” she said.

     “Have you ever met someone whose last words have been horrible?” Phil asked quietly. He stirred his coffee absentmindedly.

     “Plenty of them.”

    “And what happened to them?”

    “What do you think?”

    Phil nodded, subdued. “You’re right,” he said at length. “Nothing about this is fair.”

   “Does this have anything to do with your friend?”At Phil’s silence Tholia continued speaking, correctly interpreting it as confirmation. “I’m sorry.”

   “It’s not like it’s your fault.”

    “Still,” Tholia said, echoing Phil’s words from earlier.

     “He doesn’t deserve this–no one does,” Phil said vehemently.

     Tholia gave a hollow laugh. “It’s the way things are,” she said bitterly. “There’s not a whole lot we can do about it.”

    “Whoever invented the soulmates system is an umbrella faced monkey quack sack,” Phil said sharply.

     “What was that last part?”

    “Poetic license.”

     “I know that sometimes all you want to do is hide, and while that might be the easiest thing to do that doesn’t make it the right choice,” Tholia said. “As for your friend, anyone who I’ve known who’s been in his position have been really fucked up in some way or another. Do what you can to remain friends, and pray to whatever deity you believe in that it’ll all work out.”

     “I’m an atheist.”

    “So am I,” she said cynically. “But I need the false hope. I guess that makes us all hypocrites.”

    “It’s an interesting coincidence that we both happened to be here at the same time,” Phil said.

     “After everything that’s happened you’re telling me that this is a coincidence? Look me in the eyes and tell me that this was nothing more than a chance meeting.”

    And maybe Tholia had a point, because Phil found that he couldn’t.

  
…

  
    Phil found his way back to Bear’s hospital room after Tholia had received a phone call from whoever it was she was visiting. The two had exchanged numbers, although Phil wasn’t sure that either of them were ever going to use them. Bear was still asleep and Phil settled back into his customary seat, slipping his hand into Bear’s without a second thought.

    The doctor had told Phil that he was confident that Bear would make a full recovery, and though the doctor had no reason to lie Phil couldn’t help but worry. He sighed, brushing Bear’s fringe further back from his forehead. Once Bear did wake up there was still the issue of his words. While on the one hand Phil felt unbelievably guilty for looking without Bear’s permission, he wasn’t sure he could handle the aftershock of confessing what he’d done.

     Bear’s hand tightened its grip impeccably in Phil’s, and Phil leaned forward in his chair slightly as Bear cracked open an eyelid.

     “Morning Sleeping Beauty,” Phil said lightly, trying for a smile. He tried to keep his voice neutral and to not betray any emotion, but he wasn’t sure how successful he was being. Phil had never been very good at hiding his feelings.

     “Did you give me a kiss to wake me up?” Bear asked, a hint of the old sarcasm back in his tones. He winced, struggling to a sitting position.

     Phil figured that if Bear was already making sarcastic quips he couldn’t be too badly off. “Of course.”

    “You could’ve just asked you know,” Bear said. “The car crash was a little elaborate.”

      “You know me,” Phil answered. “I’m not someone who does things half-way. How’re you feeling?”

     “Like I’ve been hit by a truck–oh, wait,” Bear said with a straight face.

       Phil rolled his eyes, relief making him laugh more than any actual humor in Bear’s joke. “Out of all of the car crash related jokes that’s the one you go for?”

      “If you hadn’t noticed I’m in a hospital bed. I think one bad pun is excusable.”

     “You’re in a hospital bed?” Phil feigned surprise.

       “Who’s making the bad puns now?” Bear asked, raising an eyebrow as he stretched out his legs. “At least I have an excuse. What’s yours?”

      “I was making sure you were okay,” Phil said, ducking his head and focusing on his hands as he felt the top of his cheeks begin to flush. He really needed to work on thinking sentences through before blurting them out. A little foresight would probably save him from the vast majority of misunderstood encounters.

        Bear’s eyes narrowed slightly. “What about you? Are you okay?”

      “Tired,” Phil shrugged, and as if on cue he stifled a yawn. “I had stitches on my leg and a couple of bandaids but nothing too catastrophic.”

      “I’m sorry,” Bear said.

       “Why are you apologizing?” Phil asked with a hint of amusement. It seemed that all conversations today were centered around an apology in some way or another. “You’re the one connected to an IV.”

      “If I had known this was going to happen–”

      “If I had known this was going to happen I wouldn’t have said yes,” Phil interrupted. “You’re fine, I’m fine, that’s all that matters.” Bear nodded, and Phil found his eyes darting back and forth between Bear’s sleeve and his face, as if he expected that something in Bear’s expression was going to betray his words.

       “Is something wrong?” Bear asked slowly. Phil blinked, forcing his gaze to meet Bear’s squarely with a smile firmly in place.

      “I’m just glad that you’re okay,” he said not entirely untruthfully. “Memory intact, no brain damage, no paralyses…”

     “Yet.”

      “Yet,” Phil agreed, his smile widening. “Although I might’ve spoken too soon about not having any brain damage,” he teased gently.

       “Thanks. I bet that I’ll actually sustain brain damage now, and it’s going to be all your fault.”

      “I’m assuming that the party at your friend’s isn’t going to happen,” Phil ventured.

       To his surprise, Bear shrugged. “We might’ve missed most of it but we could probably still go if you wanted to.”

      “I’m assuming that means that you haven’t seen the car yet.”

      Bear’s eyes widened a fraction. “Shit.”

      “It’s your mum’s car?”

     “It was my mum’s car,” Bear confirmed grimly. He cringed as if in anticipation of Phil’s response. “How bad is it?” he asked.

     “It looks considerably less like a car and more like a dented piece of metal,” Phil said vaguely. “As far as getting it fixed goes, I’m not sure how realistic that is.”

     “Well I’m fucked,” Bear said bluntly. He fell back down on the bed, closing his eyes. “Every time I do anything inevitably I’ll screw it up somehow.”

     “Don’t beat yourself up over it,” Phil said, frowning. “It wasn’t your fault, the driver of the truck crashed into us without looking where he was going and it was an honest accident on your part.”

    “It seems like I can’t do anything right,” Bear muttered.

      “Did you listen to anything I just said?” Phil asked. “Stop blaming everything on yourself, because sometimes things happen that we have no control over, and that’s okay because that’s the way life works.”

    “You should pursue your philosopher/Dr. Phil career ambitions,” Bear said, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

       “Maybe I will, who knows?” Phil shrugged.

      “I deserve some credit for being your first client,” Bear played along. “Without me you never would’ve gone anywhere.”

    “Of course,” Phil rolled his eyes, smiling. “I’ll make sure to have them place your name at the beginning of every show. ‘Brought to you in part by Bear.’”

     "You’ve set high expectations for yourself,” Bear said. “I’ll be disappointed if you don’t meet them.”

     “I guess that means I’ll just have to meet them then,” Phil answered.  
     
     “How long has it been?”  
   
     “Since the accident?” Bear nodded. “It hasn’t been as long as you might think. About a day.”  
      
     “A day?” Bear’s face paled. “Do my parents know about this?”

     “I called them,” Phil said, gesturing broadly to Bear’s phone where it lay on the bedside table beside him. “They wanted me to call when you woke up–or better yet for you to tell them.”

     “I hate talking on the phone,” Bear made a face. “Although to be fair, I hate talking to people in general.”

     “Thanks,” Phil said sarcastically.  
     
     “That’s different.”

     “Different how?”

    A quick knock on the door broke through any further attempts at conversation, and the nurse entered with an apologetic expression. Seeing that Bear was awake, he immediately took Phil’s place beside the bed and began asking Bear questions.

       Phil moved to the seat by the window, watching. He wondered what Bear thought about his words and if he was as scared by them as Phil was. Phil didn’t think so, but a person could hide a lot behind a smile and a couple of well phrased sentences.

       It wasn’t until later that it struck him how much he had fucked up in more ways than one.

       The joke he had made in the car about Phil-osophy gave away more information about his name and identity than he would’ve if he was being cautious. He had let his guard down and slipped up, and all it took was something as simple as a pun about his name for Bear to figure it out. Bear made it easy to forget any precautions, and that was dangerous in more ways than one for both of them. For the first time Phil found like he had finally found a best friend, and he didn’t want to screw it up.

     While he, Daisy, and Liam were all friends and had been for a long time Daisy and Liam had always been slightly closer out of the trio, leaving Phil wondering how long it would take before he found someone he could freely express himself around and have them respond just as freely. Though he hadn’t known Bear for very long considering how long it normally took Phil to warm up to someone enough hold a half-way decent conversation with them, there was a level of companionship, mutual respect and enjoyment, and comfort that had been lacking in any other of Phil’s relationships.

     Bear didn’t seem to have thought that much about the pun except in brief reference, so all that Phil could do was hope that it had slipped Bear’s mind undetected as anything out of the ordinary. But as much as he tried to convince himself that that was the case, he couldn’t quite bring himself to believe it. 


	9. Chapter Nine

   Phil had never fallen in love before.

     In a way he supposed it made sense. If your soulmate was the one person who could complete you when no one else could, then was it even possible to fall in love with anyone else? He’d had his fair share of infatuations over the years, but nothing even remotely close enough to love to call it such.

      If you had asked Phil in another lifetime if he believed in soulmates, he would’ve said no. The idea that two and only two people were meant to be together and live in perfect harmony was a nice enough idea in theory, but in practice it was less than ideal. Even with the words permanently written across his wrist reminding him of the looming threat of ‘Dan,’ Phil couldn’t help but still feel slightly doubtful. After all, who wasn’t to say that it was all a hoax in the end? It wasn’t like there was anyone he could go up to and demand answers from, so in the end all anyone could do was wonder.

      Bear’s words were another issue entirely, and one that Phil wasn’t sure he knew how to deal with. He was bad enough at handling his own words, and Bear seemed to be doing a better job of getting his shit under control when it came to the words than Phil could ever do.

      Phil stood by the door of Bear’s room, waiting as Bear finished tying his shoes. After spending another night in the hospital Bear had been discharged, and with the car completely demolished public transportation remained the only option.

     “Did you get a hold of your mum?” Phil asked.

     Bear straightened, shaking his head. “Both of my parents are working right now.”

    “And they can’t take time off to make sure you’re okay?” Phil asked incredulously. While he understood that with some jobs it was more difficult to take time off than others, he would’ve thought that an event as drastic as a car crash would’ve been more than enough reason to want to ensure your child’s safety. “None at all?”

    Bear shrugged as he stood, the abrupt manner in his movements making it clear that further conversation on the topic of his parents wouldn’t be appreciated. “I guess I’ll just head back to uni early.”

      “You could always stay at my place for a couple of days?” Phil suggested hesitantly. “London’s closer, and you still have a couple of days left. If you want to that is,” he added hastily. “You don’t have to.”

      “Are you sure?” Bear asked, something in his voice sounding just as hesitant.

      “I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t sure,” Phil said with a wry smile. “It’d spare you the agony of the student with the obnoxiously loud music for a couple of days at least. And you’d get the pleasure of my company.”

      “It’s worth it just for that,” Bear rolled his eyes. “If you’re positive I wouldn’t be intruding on anything that would be great. Thank you.”

     “It’s not like I have much of a social life anyway,” Phil said.

     “Ah well, me neither,” Bear confessed with a grin. “We should start our own support group for the cripplingly introverted and awkward.”

     “Hire some therapists while we’re at it,” Phil joked.

      “Get the shrinks in here,” Bear nodded in mock approval. “It’s all happening up in here.”

     “I’ll make the business cards,” Phil said, hiding his grin as he turned to face the door, pulling it open and filing out after Bear. “Stairs or lift?”

    “I’m horribly unfit, so probably the lift unless you want to carry me back down to the A&E.”

     “You don’t look like you weigh that much,” Phil said as he pushed the down button. “I could carry you.”

     “Trust me, I’m a fat arse.”

     “No you’re not,” Phil answered automatically. By this point Bear’s self-deprecating remarks had become second nature, although he wasn’t sure that was necessarily a good thing.

      Bear raised an eyebrow, otherwise giving no further reaction as he stepped into the now open lift. He pushed the ground floor command as Phil followed suit, watching as the doors closed and they began to descend.

     “Would it be completely childish to jump?” Phil asked with a smile, bending his knees in anticipation.

      “Yes,” Bear said with a returning smile, bending his own knees and waiting. In unison, the two jumped, laughing as their feet hit the ground again and the doors opened. Tholia was waiting in front of the lift, engrossed on her phone and oblivious. Phil froze, the smile wiping from his face as the laughter died out.

     “Are you coming?” Bear asked. Phil blinked, glancing away from Tholia and to Bear where he stood a couple of feet away from the exit, evidently having left on his own.

     “Sure,” Phil said, beginning to edge around Tholia–who still hadn’t looked up. It felt wrong to leave without saying anything, though, so he cleared his throat self-consciously. “Goodbye Tholia, I’ll see you later.”

    “Goodbye Phil Lester,” Tholia said, her head tilting as her eyes met his. Phil winced, instinctively glancing at Bear to see if he’d heard. He seemed to be far away enough that he was out of earshot, although Phil didn’t relax as he nodded. Tholia’s eyes followed his glance towards Bear, something in her gaze seeming to deepen. “Given the way things seem to be panning out, I’m sure I will some way or another.”

    Phil offered a final smile before joining Bear by the door. Bear regarded him curiously as he pushed the doors open. “Who was that?”

    “A friend,” Phil said shortly. To take the bite out of his words he smiled. “No one you would know.”

     “What’s her name?”

     “Tholia.”

     Bear didn’t give any outward indication that he had heard Phil’s answer, but as the two continued walking and Bear’s hand brushed against his, linking his fingers with Phil’s it seemed as though he understood what Phil had left unspoken.

  
…

  
     Phil walked up the street side by side with Bear, scanning the various shops as he passed and trying to ignore the fact that his stomach felt like it was going to cave in on itself.

     Apparently somewhere along the same levels of famished and exhausted as he was, Bear asked the question first. “Are we going to stop and get something to eat?”

      “I haven’t had a chance to go to the store lately, so unless you want stale toast and cereal probably.”

      “I don’t know, I’m really digging the idea of stale cereal,” Bear said sarcastically with a smile.

       “It was the toast that was stale,” Phil corrected jokingly. “The cereal’s fine–I think…”

      “Reassuring. I think I’ll stick with eating out.”

       “Any preferences?”

     “We could always eat at Starbucks for old times sake?” Bear threw out, smirking.

       “Probably not for dinner,” Phil wrinkled his nose, smiling despite himself. “What about pizza? Not exactly the most exciting food out there, but it’s fairly easy to find a half-way decent restaurant that serves pizza in the middle of London.”

     “Pizza’s fine,” Bear shrugged. He jerked his chin towards a building off to the right, a sign hanging in the window proudly proclaiming that they served homemade pizza. “Like that one?”

     Phil laughed. “Exactly like that one,” he agreed.  He ran a couple of steps ahead of Bear, grabbing the door and yanking it open. “After you.”

     “Thanks,” Bear ducked through, Phil following suit and letting the door swing shut behind him. The restaurant was reasonably sized, tables and chairs lining the walls and intruding into the center of the room in some places. As it was still a little on the earlier side for dinner the room was partially filled, plenty of tables sitting open and waiting. A sign was strategically placed by the door, reading Please seat yourself.

       “Here?” Phil asked, stopping beside one of the tables as the duo proceeded further into the restaurant.

       “Sure,” Bear said, pulling out the chair across from Phil and sitting down. “What kind of pizza do you normally order?”

      “I’m okay with whatever,” Phil said offhandedly, glancing up as the waiter burst into the room, looking slightly flustered.

        “Can I start you off with some drinks?” the waiter asked, looking as though he was trying to catch his breath as he set two menus gently down on the table. “I apologize if there’s a bit of a delay, I’m the only one working tonight.”

      “It’s fine,” Phil assured him, grabbing one the menus and opening it. “Water, please.”

      “I’ll have water too,” Bear said. The man nodded, turning and disappearing back into the kitchen. “Generic pepperoni?” Bear asked Phil from over the top of his menu.

      “Sounds good to me,” Phil said, restacking the menus at the end of the table. “That was easier than I’d thought it was going to be.”

     “Easier than your mum?”

    “Shut up,” Phil rolled his eyes, aiming a gentle kick at Bear from under the table.

     “Make me,” Bear challenged, quirking an eyebrow and crossing his arms.

     “Not in public.”

    “Should I be fearful for my life?” Bear asked.

     “Only for your sanity,” Phil said fairly, smiling. 

     “Oh,” Bear visibly relaxed, giving Phil a fondly mocking glance. “I lost that a long time ago. For a moment I thought I was actually in danger.”

      “We all start to lose our sanity from the moment that we’re born,” Phil said. “From there it just goes downhill. Quotes from me.”

      Bear coughed, laughing as he pressed a hand to his temple in exasperation. “Jesus Christ. You never give up, do you?”

      “It depends.”

      “Depends on what?”

      “What it is I’m giving up on.”

      “I haven’t seen you give up yet at any rate,” Bear said, returning to the subject at hand. “And while there are a lot of things I think are admirable about you, I think that’s probably the trait I admire the most–probably mostly in part because I’m not that way at all.”

     “You haven’t given up,” Phil said, frowning.

     “Yet,” Bear corrected.

  
…

  
     Phil lived in a decently sized flat a couple of blocks away from _Ink and Quill_. It wasn’t elaborate by any stretch of the imagination, but it had enough space to store his random crap and then some.

     “You can have my bed if you’d like,” Phil said, fumbling with the keys as he unlocked the door. After rattling the doorknob around a couple of times, it finally popped open. He pulled the keys out of the lock, dropping them in his pocket as he entered his flat. “I can sleep on the sofa.”

     “It’s fine,” Bear said hurriedly. “I’ll take the sofa.”

     “I like the sofa,” Phil insisted. Somewhere subconsciously he aware of how ridiculous the two of them probably sounded, but what little pride he retained refused to back down. “You’re the guest anyway.”

     “Exactly,” Bear retaliated. “It’s your flat.”

     “Which is why you should take the bed.”

     “Which is why you should stop being a selfless little shit.”

    “Says you,” Phil snorted. “You were the one in the hospital.”

    “You were the one who stayed up while I slept.”

     “You were unconscious,” Phil pointed out.

     “Still.”

     “Sleeping and being knocked out are two completely different things.”

     “This is getting ridiculous,” Bear proclaimed. “Just let me sleep on the fucking sofa, I swear to God that I don’t give a shit.”

      Phil crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. “No.”

      “I didn’t know you were this stubborn,” Bear said, smirking.

      “There’s a lot about me that you don’t know,” Phil said. The two lapsed into silence, standing by the door as the darkening night cast everything in shadow. Bear began tapping his foot impatiently as Phil bit his lip, studying the ceiling.

       “Are we going to stand here all night or…” Bear trailed off.

       Phil sighed, dropped his line of vision from the ceiling and looking at what little bit of Bear he could still make out. “There is another option,” he began tentatively.

  
…

  
    “Ow! Jesus Christ Phil, do you have any concept of personal space at all?”

    “It’s not my fault that you’re falling off of the bed.”

    “It is your fault that you’re elbowing me, however and it would be nice if you’d stop.”

    “I will if you move over.”

     “Over where? The floor?”

     “The sarcasm is really helpful,” Phil rolled his eyes, readjusting his position again as he rolled onto his side. “Is that better?” he asked with a heavy helping of his own sarcasm.

      “Wait.” Bear rolled over on his side, facing Phil until their noses were almost touching. “There,” he said with a small amount of satisfaction. “We’re good now.”

      “Yeah,” Phil agreed, trying not to focus too much on the fact that Bear’s face was centimeters away from his and that without much effort he could probably lean in and brush his lips against Bear’s.

      Not that he wanted to necessarily, regardless of how much he liked Bear’s laugh, or his enthusiasm and passion, or the way the he somehow made Phil’s word stop turning and start to turn all at the same time, or his occasionally pretentious but always interesting statements in some way or another, or that sometimes Bear felt like the only sanity in an otherwise fucked up world, or the millions of other things that Phil liked about him. Because Phil had never been in love, and he wasn’t in love with Bear, but he didn’t know what love was supposed to feel like and he would be lying if he didn’t say that there was a small part of him that wanted–needed–to close the remaining distance between he and Bear.

     “Crisis averted,” Phil said.

      “Are we going to stay up late into the night and do each other’s hair?” Bear asked, pitching his voice a couple of octaves higher.

      “Only if we can gossip about boys,” Phil laughed quietly.

      “Obviously. What else would we talk about?”

     “So who do you like?” Phil asked, quirking an eyebrow and shooting Bear a mischievous look. “You know, like like,” he continued in his best approximation of a giggly, breathless, voice.

      “There’s this one boy that I like,” Bear said quietly, his voice returning back to normal. “I guess I shouldn’t be calling him a boy–he’s older than me.”

      “And what does this boy look like?” Phil asked, any humor gone from his question. Something began to pool in the base of his gut, warped and twisted, ugly and stale.

      “He has blue eyes,” Bear answered. “Bright blue, and I can’t even think of a cliched enough metaphor to describe the ‘exact shade,’ except that no matter what I say or do they’re always filled with this kind of light as though as long as you keep staring into the blue nothing bad will ever happen again.”

     “Light?”

     “I never claimed to be a writer,” Bear shrugged. “He has hair that’s ‘too black for this world,’ and I think it’s probably dyed.”

    “He dyes his hair?” Phil repeated, wrinkling his nose in mock disgust past the increasingly loud pulse that was beginning to roar in his ears. The ugly feeling had disappeared, replaced by something else that he could only think to call butterflies–which was ridiculous. He wasn’t some giggly Year Seven flirting with a crush. “Sounds like the vain type to me.”

    “Not really,” Bear smiled softly. “Anything but, actually. He’s one of–of the goodest people I’ve ever met. And I know that’s not a word, but I can’t think of any other way to describe it. There’s this sense of quiet empathy and understanding that’s rare to find in a person nowadays. And somehow he always seems to know the right thing to say.” Phil nodded, swallowing as he held his breath involuntarily, as if any sudden movement would spoil whatever it was that lay unsaid. “Any boys catch your fancy recently?” Bear asked after a brief moment of quiet.

     “No,” Phil said.

     It was too dark to be certain, but he thought he could see a dark expression flit over Bear’s features. “Ah. Are you sure?”

    Phil let his eyes close momentarily as he frantically tried to unscramble his thoughts, because damn it he would be lying if he didn’t say that maybe he did like Bear as something more than a friend, but Phil was broken and the words on his wrist were proof enough of that. Phil was broken, and he was fucking terrified of the backlash.

     “There might be someone,” he admitted quietly, opening his eyes again. “I’m not sure yet, though.”

    “What does he look like?” Bear’s next question was a whisper.

    “He has brown eyes, but they’re the kind of eyes you wish you could drown in,” Phil said without thinking.

      Bear was silent for a moment. “I’m sorry,” was all he said.

      “Don’t say that, I’m sorry.”

     Bear nodded impeccably. “Whoever it is,” he said finally. “I’m sure he’s willing to wait.”

    Phil smiled, something in the action feeling both sad and twisted all at the same time. “I almost wish he wouldn’t.”

    “He’d be stupid not to,” Bear muttered under his breath, turning and laying on his back. Phil mimicked his actions, laying on his back. He carefully slid his hand into Bear’s where it lay between them, their shoulders touching as he stared up at the ceiling. Bear’s hand was warm in his, and for a moment as they lay there in the dark, Phil could almost believe that he was whole.

     “I hope he knows that it’s not his fault,” Phil said, resolutely watching the ceiling.

      “That you haven’t committed to anything yet?”

     “It’s not his fault, it’s mine.”

    “That sounds more like a breakup line than a declaration of love,” Bear rolled his eyes.

      “You get my point,” Phil said in slight exasperation. “I’m–It’s–” he broke off, gritting his teeth. “I just hope he knows.”

     “Don’t worry,” Bear reassured softly. “I’m sure he does.”

     “You think?” Bear nodded.

      “I love innocently sharing beds with friends,” Bear announced at large.

     “Friends?” Phil repeated. He’d meant for it to be a rhetorical statement, but Bear answered him.

     “You’re my best friend,” Bear admitted in a low voice. “I’ve only known you for a couple of months, but you are.”

    “You’re mine too,” Phil said without missing a beat. “Imagine if you’d picked a different book shop. We’d never have met.”

     “I don’t even want to think about it,” Bear said firmly. “I’m glad I did, though.”

    “I’m glad you did, too.”

    “This makes me sound like a loser with no friends, which to be fair is a fairly accurate description, but I did not have a best friend for the first eighteen years of my life. My friends always liked other people more than they like me, and sometimes it was extremely lonely and depressing.”

     “What happened when you turned nineteen?”

     Bear smiled, laughing slightly as he nudged Phil’s shoulder with his. “I met you, you twat.”

     “Oh,” Phil said, at a loss for anything better to say.

     “Is that all you’re going to say?” Bear asked in thinly veiled amusement. “Descriptive.”

     “I try,” Phil said sarcastically. “Do you believe in love?”

     “Love? I don’t think that everyone falls in love, but I think it exists, yeah. Why? Do you?”

     “Sometimes I can’t help but think that it’s a bit like Santa Claus.”

     “In what way? An old man in a suit? Wow Cat, I’ve heard of a lot of different kinks, but that has to be a new one.”

      “Shut up,” Phil said, laughing as he gently kicked Bear’s foot. “No. I guess what I mean is that your parents tell you it exists and you grow up believing in it, but it’s not actually real.”

      “So you’re saying that you don’t believe in love.”

      “I’m saying that I have no idea what I’m saying,” Phil sighed in exasperation. “I wish words were easier.”

      “I think I get your point,” Bear said. “I don’t agree, though. Why else would we have the soulmates system?”

     Phil bit his lip guiltily. “Y–Yeah,” he said, wincing. If he was going to confess, now would be the time to. He almost considered it, but as in most things in life, Phil chickened out. “That’s the thing,” he said, recovering. “Who says it’s even real?”

     “The over seven billion people on the planet,” Bear answered wryly.

     “What if it’s all just a self-fulfilling prophecy?” Phil pressed. “Maybe none of this is real, but we’re so convinced that once the words come true that that’s the end that we make it the end.”

      “What, we’ve managed to delude ourselves for the past hundred some years that soulmates exist when it’s really all in our heads?” Bear snorted.

       Phil had to admit–coming from someone else it did sound a little ludacris. “Fine, maybe not exactly that,” he admitted grudgingly. “But something along those lines, yeah.”

      “Do you honestly believe that or is it just wishful thinking?”

      “Who’s not to say that this is all just wishful thinking?” Phil asked wearily. “Nothing about this makes sense anymore.”

       “When did it ever?”

       “True,” Phil laughed humorlessly. He let out a long breath through his teeth, closing his eyes again and listening to Bear’s shallow breathing from beside him. There was something strangely comforting in the knowledge that he wasn’t completely alone, even if it was only temporary. He hadn’t planned on going to sleep as early as it was, but with the stress of pulling an all nighter and everything else that had happened it seemed as though it was yet another thing that wasn’t going to plan. “Good night, Bear,” Phil said, the words leaving heavy lips as he nestled further down into the pillow.

         “Good night,” Bear said after a moment’s pause, a smile in his words as he readjusted his grip in Phil’s, turning back on his side. “–Phil.”


	10. Chapter Ten

      It was barely ten in the morning when the fire alarm went off.

     Phil had never been a culinary expert anyway, and it wasn’t like it was his fault that his fire alarm went off at the slightest hint of over excessive heat. Still, as he ran around his flat cracking open every window and turning on the fan, he couldn’t help but think that as far as trying to cook anything in secret went he had properly fucked up.

       Bear stumbled out of the bedroom and shut the door firmly behind him, stifling a yawn and rubbing his eyes vigorously. His hair stuck up in various directions, the ends curling as he gave Phil a bleary eyed look. “Do we need to evacuate?”

      “Go back to sleep,” Phil waved vaguely in the direction of his bedroom, still brandishing the spatula. “Sorry, this fire alarm is shit and sets off way too easily. No evacuation–at least for right now.”

      “That’s good to know. What are you making?”

      Phil sighed, grimacing. “I was trying to make pancakes,” he said dubiously, giving one of the said pancakes a poke with the spatula. “I don’t think they turned out that well, though.”

     “I’m sure they’re delicious,” Bear reassured him, coming further into the kitchen and sitting at the bar. “There’s food, it’s not like I could go back to bed anyway,” he said. “How’d you sleep?”

      “Fine,” Phil shrugged, taking the pan off of the stove and holding it in front of him. He narrowed his eyes slightly before tossing the pancake into the air. It landed neatly on the pan and Phil held it up, smiling triumphantly.

    “Not bad,” Bear clapped–an exaggerated motion as he nodded.

    “It was a lot better than ‘not bad,’” Phil said, feeling slightly indignant.

    “I could do it better,” Bear said challengingly.

    “Have at it,” Phil said, handing him the pan and stepping back. Bear mimicked Phil’s previous actions, spreading his feet and holding the pan out in front of him. He tossed the pancake in the air, moving the pan so that it fell neatly back in place. Apparently deciding that one flip wasn’t enough evidence, Bear threw the pancake into the air. He yelped, diving backwards towards Phil as the pancake hit the ceiling light and fell on the floor with an audible thump.

    “Oops,” Bear said sheepishly.

     Phil was laughing as he rolled his eyes, gently shoving Bear. “You can definitely do it better than I can,” he said sarcastically.

      “Shut up,” Bear said, smiling as he shook his head. He grabbed a paper towel from the counter behind, beginning to clean the pancake off of the floor. “I lied about my degree–I’m actually studying pancake flipping.”

      “I can tell you’re going to be extremely successful,” Phil said dryly. “Unless you actually have to prove your degree is legitimate. Then you might have some issues.”

     Bear threw the paper towel into the trash can beside the counter, picking up the pan again and placing another pancake into it from the plate sitting beside the stove. He grabbed an empty plate, holding it out. Phil took the plate, frowning.

     “What are you trying to do?” he asked.

     “I’m going to flip this pancake onto the plate,” Bear proclaimed, already gearing up.

     “You realize that we’re not going to actually have any pancakes left, right?” Phil asked, resigning himself as he held the plate out.

      “We will,” Bear said confidently. “I won’t drop it.” Before Phil could object further, Bear flipped the pancake before jumping backwards. Phil lunged a half-step forwards, the pancake landing squarely almost exactly in the center of the plate. He held it up triumphantly.

     “Operation Pancake Flip was a success,” he said.

      “Is that we’re calling it?” Bear asked with no little trace of amusement. “What do you say we serve the rest of the pancakes this way?” At Phil’s look of panic he quickly amended. “–Kidding.”

       “I’d rather not spend the entire day cleaning up the floor,” Phil said, adding another pancake to the first one. He handed Bear the plate before stacking two pancakes on his own plate and following Bear to the table. “I have golden syrup, lemon, and confectioners sugar,” he said. “Is there anything else you need or…”

       “That’s fine,” Bear said, reaching for the lemon.

       “As you heard this morning,” Phil grimaced, casting an accusatory glare at the alarm. “Some of them are a little singed on the bottom, but it shouldn’t be too bad.”

      “Cat, stop worrying,” Bear rolled his eyes, sprinkling sugar over the top of his pancake and taking a bite. He paused mid-chew to roll his eyes again, smiling. “They’re amazing.” Phil took a bite of his own pancake dubiously. As he chewed he grudgingly had to admit that given the circumstances, they could’ve turned out worse. “Will you shut up and eat now?” Bear asked not unkindly.

       “If you insist,” Phil said graciously. “Did you say something last night?” he asked.

      Bear stilled momentarily, freezing. “Which thing?” he asked finally. “I said a lot of things last night.”

      “I heard most of them,” Phil said self-consciously, clearing his throat as he carefully tried to navigate the conversation away from what they had discussed the first part of the evening. “Right before I went to sleep you said something, but I can’t remember what it was.”

     Bear visibly relaxed. “I just said goodnight. Nothing too important or particularly memorable.”

     “How’d you sleep?” When in doubt, Phil went for the mandatory and somewhat obligatory questions undoubtedly asked by every host.

     “Better than I have in a long time, actually. You?”

     “Me too,” Phil said truthfully. Insomnia had been an accompanying part of his bedtime routine for longer than he cared to remember, and for the first time in a while he had managed to sleep constantly.

      “I’m sure it was my charming presence,” Bear preened mockingly.

      “And your humility.”

     “That too, of course.”

     “Did you ever let your friend know that we weren’t able to come?” Phil asked suddenly.

      “I texted last night,” Bear confirmed. “They said it was fine and not to worry.”

      “You were hospitalized, I should hope not,” Phil said. “I’m assuming you still want to go to Muse though.”

      “If that’s still an option,” Bear began, looking tentative.

      “If you’re still up for it.”

      “You’d have to kill me to make me not want to go, and even then I’d expect you to drive my hearse to the concert.”

      “You could’ve just said yes,” Phil rolled his eyes, grinning. “Dramatic as always.”

     “Keeps life interesting.”

     “Do you have a time in mind that you’d like to leave?” Phil asked. “When do you need to be back in Manchester?”

     “I should probably leave later today,” Bear said, the words sounding grim. “Make sure I have enough time.”

      “You sound so excited,” Phil noted.

     “Its university,” Bear answered, as though that in itself should be enough of an explanation. “Besides that it’s _law._ It’s not exactly something you enjoy.”

      “Don’t forget that you can always pick another degree if you’re not happy with what you’re doing right now.” Bear muttered something along the lines of ‘my parents.’ “You’re the one that’s going to have to spend the rest of your life doing whatever job it is you decide, not them,” Phil said. “Any parents would want their child to do what makes them happy in the end.”

    “I take it you haven’t actually met my parents,” Bear said, his eyes cold as they met Phil’s. “I used to want to be an actor, but…”

    “Then be an actor,” Phil said, frowning. “If that’s what you want to do, then do it. Your parents will have to learn to accept that you’re your own person.”

   “They’re also the ones paying my tuition.”

    “They’re still your parents,” Phil argued. “Your happiness and general well being should be their first priority.”

      “Sometimes my well being and their idea of my well being aren’t always on the same page,” Bear said darkly. He moved his food around with his fork. “It doesn’t matter, who actually likes school anyway?” he asked, trying for a grin.

       “Nobody,” Phil said, figuring that pressing the topic wasn’t going to get him any further than a refusal and the silent treatment. “Later today is fine.”

…

    On ten thirty on most weekend mornings Phil was still sleeping. _Ink and Quill_ opened and operated on roughly the same schedule as an office job, and on the weekends Phil fell back into his old sleep patterns of one thirty evenings and eleven thirty mornings. The resulting effect was usually that the rest of the day was wasted, but after spending five consecutive days forcing a smile on his face and politely serving whoever stopped by the shop, Phil couldn’t help but feel that he was entitled to a certain amount of laziness.

     After cleaning up from breakfast he and Bear had collapsed on the sofa, _Mario Kart_ laying conveniently in reach on the table in front of them.

       “Best out of three?” Phil asked. He passed Bear one of the controllers as he nodded, turning on the TV and leaning forwards slightly in his seat.

      “You’re going down,” Bear said, smirking as his eyes locked on the TV screen. “This is serious business,” he pointed the controller at the floor empathetically.

     “Sugar we’re going down driving,” Phil remarked, glancing at Bear to gauge his reaction. The corner of Bear’s lip began to curl up.

       “Serious business!” he insisted, his gaze remaining fixed on the screen as the familiar opening screen for _Mario Kart 8_ began to flash across the television. Phil leveled his controller in front of the screen, frowning in concentration as he clicked past the starting screens.

        “He looks like he’s wearing a capybara,” Phil said as he selected his character. “I guess that’s a bit barbaric actually,” he said, frowning.

     “Normally I play as my mii,” Bear said, selecting Yoshi.

      “Boring,” Phil rolled his eyes jokingly. “Both your mii and Yoshi.”

      “I like playing as myself!” Bear defended as he finished choosing the rest of the items.

      “What track?” Phil asked. “Your pick first.”

      “What’s the one with the sweets?” Phil’s cursor hovered over one of them and Bear nodded. “That one. Pro tip,” Bear added as he leaned forwards even more. “This track was actually based off of _Wreck it Ralph._ ”

      “Was it actually?”

       Bear shrugged. “That’s what Tumblr said at least.”

       “Because Tumblr is completely trustworthy.”

       “It’s on the internet. Therefore it must be true, right?”

       “I hate to burst your bubble, but–” Phil broke off as the screen finished loading, readjusting his grip on the control. “Serious business, right?”

         “What else would it be?” Bear asked mischievously. Phil suddenly jerked one of the sticks to the side as his car began to move. Bear’s car sputtered behind him back at the starting line.

      “That was a deliberate move! A deliberate tactic to get a good power up!” Bear protested, laughing as he began to accelerate. “I’m coming up behind you,” he taunted. “Watch your back.”

      “I’m a master in training. No wait—I’m a master,” Phil proclaimed, rounding another bend. Without any warning, Bear’s car flew ahead of his, Bear’s over dramatic elbow to the side as the rounded the bend almost knocking Phil over.

        “Darn it!” Phil glared. “This is the only game that I swear a lot in, normally I don’t swear that much.”

         “Yeah, because ‘darn’ is such a bad word,” Bear rolled his eyes, the distance between he and Phil beginning to close as Phil neared him. Phil was about to pass when Bear released a particularly well timed power up, increasing Bear’s lead almost by double. “Oh, what was that?” he asked, cocking his head. “What was that again? You’re a master? Eat my dust than ‘master.’”

        “Shut up,” Phil was laughing as he regained his balance. “Shut up,” he said again. “I’ll pass you again before you know it.”

         “Sure you will,” Bear said confidently.

         “You’re distracting me,” Phil protested weakly. “I’m focusing too hard on the bants to play at my full potential.”

        “Pro tip number two, don’t bant and drive. Look Cat, I can play with my face.”

        Phil shot him a mock angry glance as Bear began manipulating the stick with his face. “Are you actually playing with your face?” he asked indignantly, returning his attention to the game. “This is so offensive.”

        “No, no I’m not,” Bear denied innocently. He leaned backwards into the sofa a couple of seconds later, pumping a fist into the air. “Oh, what’s that? First? Is that first I see? And with my face?”

         “Are you actually finished?” Phil protested, frantically accelerating across the finish line. “Third?” he directed his complaints towards the TV. “Are you kidding?”

       “Too slow Cat, too slow,” Bear said in feigned sympathy. “You’ll have to do better next time.”

       “It’s my turn to pick now though,” Phil said valiantly, trying to collect what little pride he had left as he selected the next track.

        “The biker track?” Bear asked incredulously. “It’s literally completely flat track with a couple of bumps, and if you hit _one_ you’re thrown off.”

        “Is the champion feeling threatened?” Phil asked teasingly. “I’m good at this one.”

        “Because it takes a lot of skill to jump and go straight,” Bear answered sarcastically as he began to round the first corner. “That’s an accomplishment. And look who’s still in first, by the way.”

      “Not for long,” Phil said, smirking as he pressed the power up. “Use this time valuably!”

      “What are you on about,” Bear asked, scowling as he strained to see past the ink obscuring most of his screen.

      “Nothing,” Phil said innocently, continuing to drive. “Except that I’m about to pass you and then I’ll be in first.”

      “You don’t need to throw it in my face,” Bear muttered.

      “Payback.”

       “I suppose that means I shouldn’t complain, but–”

       Phil held his breath before releasing a victorious yell. “Yes! First!”

      “Damn you,” Bear cursed, trying to regain his bearings. Phil’s car flew over the jumps, Bear lagging slightly behind. “I’m going to toot you,” Bear warned.

         “Oh no, don’t toot me, please.”

       “’Don’t toot me, please.’” Bear rolled his eyes, laughing. “Real brave statement of you there.”

       “Bravery is my middle name,” Phil joked, scowling as Bear whizzed past him. “Damn it!”

       “Ha,” Bear grinned. “Told you so.”

       “I wouldn’t act so cocky if I was you,” Phil said.

       “If I was you then I’d be losing,” Bear shot back. “I’m on my last lap,” he dragged the words out, the smirk widening.

     “Shut up!” Phil said again.

     “You need to find a new comeback because frankly that isn’t a comeback,” Bear said. There were a couple moment of silence as Phil gritted his teeth together in concentration. Normally he didn’t think of himself as an especially competitive person, and while he still didn’t care overly about the verdict of their race, there was still a part of him that wanted to beat Bear as any sane person would.

     “First again!” Bear threw the controller on the table, grinning and watching as Phil finished the race.

     “Wait! But I’ve got a plant! I’ve got a plant!” Phil passed the finish line, slumping in his seat.

     “Too plant too little. Or too little to plant,” Bear said triumphantly. “That’s it.” He pressed through Phil’s objections. “Nope, that’s it.”

       “I have a preposition,” Phil said. He held up a finger dramatically, widening his eyes for further affect. “All or nothing.”  
       “All or nothing?” Bear laughed. “You can’t just do ‘all or nothing’ when you lose.”

       “All or nothing.”

        Bear sighed, shaking his head as he picked up the controller again. “You know what, if accepting this makes me look like I have the better sportsmanship, than sure. All or nothing.”

      “We should do a track that we’ve neither of us know that well,” Phil said. He pointed. “That one?”

     “Sure,” Bear said.

      “Here’s a pro tip for you,” Phil said as the track began to load. “This track actually changes based on what season it is.”

      “Yeah, because winter is really appropriate for May,” Bear snorted, taking in the snowy landscape.

       “Fine,” Phil amended. “It changes most of the time. Maybe it just doesn’t like you.”

       “I’ll be going so fast it’ll melt the snow,” Bear stated.

       “You seem to have retained your confidence,” Phil said.

        “I’ve already won two,” Bear said. “Third in a row? Bring it.” The countdown finished and Bear suddenly pulled into first. “A good start,” he said approvingly.

       “I’m in second,” Phil pointed out. “And it’s not even halfway done with the first lap yet. There’s still plenty of time for me to kick your arse.”

       “If you can catch me,” Bear answered. “I’m going to turn down the bants. I need full focus.”

       “Serious business.”

      “Serious business.”

       Phil bit his lip, narrowing his eyes slightly in concentration as he narrowly took a corner, passing Bear and grinning. “First,” he said lightly.

       “Right—fucking—fuck!” Bear scowled, groaning. “I just got blue shelled from in front.”

       “What’s that I see?” Phil imitated Bear’s bragging from earlier. “Fifth? Now sixth? And I’m still in first?”

        “Fuck off,” Bear shook his head, his eyes hardening in concentration. “I can still pull this back.”

        “Last lap,” Phil teased. “Look at me take that bend. And now this one. Those were some nice curves. Last leg…” he stretched out the word, holding his breath as he slammed across the finish line. He dropped his controller on the couch, throwing his arms in the air. “Yes!”

      Bear finished, throwing his controller down. “Fuck you _Mario Kart_ and your shitty ‘all or nothing.’”

      “To be fair, technically if it hadn’t been for the ‘all or nothing’ you would’ve won,” Phil said. “Although because of ‘all or nothing’ I won.”

       “Congratulations,” Bear grumbled, giving Phil a good natured smile.

       “We withstood the ultimate test of friendship,” Phil said. “ _Mario Kart._ At this point we could overcome anything.”

        “We’re real friends,” Bear’s smile widened. Hesitantly he reached out, pulling Phil into a hug. Phil hugged him back, resting his chin on top of Bear’s head as he laid it on Phil’s shoulder. Phil had never had an issue with physical contact, and he’d hugged a lot of people. Somehow none of the previous hugs had seemed quite as warm or safe as the one from Bear though, and there was a part of him that never wanted it to end.

      Phil relaxed slightly after a moment half-expecting Bear to pull away, but the university student didn’t make a move to pull away and eventually Phil returned to his previous position.

      “Thank you,” Bear said quietly. “—For about the hundredth time.”

        “And for about the hundredth time, you’re welcome. That’s what friends do.”

        Bear finally pulled away, remaining in close enough proximity that Phil could see the subtle shades of brown that merged together in his eyes. “If there’s ever anything I can do…”

       “You’re welcome to stop by anytime you feel like it,” Phil offered. Even a couple of days ago the words would’ve felt stiff and foreign, but now they rolled off of his tongue easily enough as if it was second nature. “On the weekend, after university, whenever. A little advance notice would be nice, but even if you wanted to come back after visiting _Ink and Quill_ one of these days we could do that to.”

        Bear’s eyes lit up. “I’d like that,” he said simply, smiling as his hand slid into Phil’s.

        “I would too,” Phil said, giving Bear a smile of his own as his fingers curled around Bear’s.


	11. Chapter Eleven

     Phil had never been good with words in the sense that he knew what he wanted to say, but somewhere between where the ideas floated in his subconscious and where they actually emerged from his lips they were lost. So as in most cases when he wanted to say something that he ran the risk of fucking up if he tried to say in person, he decided to leave Bear a sticky note.  
      The marker lay uncapped on the table beside his hand as Phil reached for his coffee, taking another sip. He rubbed his eyes, fighting back a yawn as he swiveled in his chair. Ever since Bear had left the insomnia had returned worse than ever. Which, to be fair, was part of what he wanted to tell him.  
      After Bear had left Phil’s flat over a week ago, Phil had spent a lot of time thinking. What he had said technically wasn’t a lie–he wasn’t sure if he was in love or what anything meant, and he still wasn’t convinced that he wasn’t broken and fucked up. At the same time Phil had found himself thinking about Bear more than he had been previously, which meant that the university student was always on the edge of his thoughts in some way or another. Phil wasn’t sure if it was love or not, but there was something about the way Bear made him laugh and the world stop that was electric in a way that he’d never felt before. He hadn’t forgotten the dangers of the words, and there was a part of Phil that couldn’t shake the feeling that any chance at a relationship was doomed before it had started.  
     Although in the end maybe none of that mattered, because if there was one thing Bear had taught him it was that while living came at a price, the price paled in comparison to the difference between surviving and living.  
      So despite the nagging voice in the back of his mind telling him that he was being stupid and that he’d live to regret it, Phil had eventually come to the decision that maybe he was ready to try if Bear was.

      The door swung open, the familiar jingle of the bell jolting Phil back to reality. He glanced up to spy Bear and a brown haired girl enter the shop, laughing about something unbeknownst to him. He carefully slid the notepad and marker in the desk drawer, shutting it firmly and looking up with a smile.  
      “This is Abbie,” Bear said by way of introduction, nudging the girl beside him. She flashed Phil a smile.   
       “It’s nice to meet you,” she said politely.   
       “You too,” Phil said, giving a tentative smile of his own. “You can call me Cat.” At her confused expression, he quickly clarified. “It’s what my–friends call me.”   
       “Cat,” Abbie echoed thoughtfully. “I like that.”  
       Phil forced the smile to stay on his face as he nodded with as much warmth as he could summon. Bear had been the only one to call him that so far, and hearing the name from someone else sounded stiff and awkward to his ears. “Are you a student at Manchester too?”  
      “I haven’t decided on a specific major yet,” Abbie confirmed. “I have a couple of ideas, but I don’t want to rush into something that’s going to make me unhappy.”  
       “That sounds like a smart decision,” Phil said, giving Bear a pointed look as he studiously avoided Phil’s glance. “Good luck.”  
      “Thank you,” she said. “Have you graduated yet?”  
      “Fairly recently,” Phil answered. “Last couple of years.” If he had taken the time to think about it, the fact that he couldn’t remember the year that he’d graduated was fairly pathetic although in his defense university had hardly been the most memorable of places. While he hadn’t hated it, nothing particularly exciting had happened during his years there.  
        “Why don’t you head downstairs?” Bear asked Abbie suddenly, his voice quiet. “I’ll join you in just a second. I have to ask Cat something.”  
        “Sure,” Abbie shrugged. She gave Phil another grin. “It was nice meeting you, Cat.”  
       Phil returned the smile. “You too,” he said, shifting his attention to Bear once she had disappeared from sight.  
        “Do you remember what I told you last week?” Bear asked abruptly. “When I told you that there was someone that I was in love with?”  
       “It wasn’t quite that exact phrasing,” Phil muttered, flushing. Besides the fact that he was the same color as the wall and he could pull off a Voldemort impression with surprising accuracy, the paleness of his skin made it exceptionally easy for someone to tell when he was flustered. “I wanted to talk to you about that too.”  
     “Forget it,” Bear said dismissively.  
     “Forget talking to you?”  
     “What I said,” Bear shifted his weight from foot to foot, dropping his gaze to the floor. “I didn’t mean any of it. It was late at night and I wasn’t thinking straight, and things were confusing but I took some time and thought about it and I was wrong.”  
       “Right,” Phil said slowly, trying to ignore the fact that it felt like the bottom of his stomach had disappeared and given way to a bottomless pit. “And?”  
       “Abbie and I are dating,” Bear blurted in one sudden breath.   
       “Congratulations?” The statement emerged sounding more like a question, but something didn’t seem right in Bear’s body language. Phil swallowed past the feeling of something breaking into a million pieces, trying for a smile. Bear stared at him for a moment with an unreadable expression on his face.   
     “Can you stand up for a second?” Everything about Bear’s words seemed to be jerky and sudden, and as Phil stumbled to his feet with a frown in one sudden motion Bear had pulled him into a hug, burying his face in the crook of Phil’s shoulder.   
      “Are you okay?” Phil asked, tightening his grip gently. Bear didn’t answer. “Is something wrong?”  
      Bear pulled away, stepping back and shrugging. Phil missed the warmth almost immediately. “No,” he said a little too quickly to be convincing.   
       “If you need anything–”  
       “How do you know if you’re doing something because you want to or because it’s what someone else wants you to do?” Bear asked in a rush, his words blurring together.  
       By now Bear’s occasional outbursts were par of the course, and Phil had learned to take them in stride. “I think you need to look at whatever decisions you’re making and where you are in your life right now and ask yourself if you’re happy or not. Even if what you’re doing right now is for someone else, as long as it genuinely makes you happy than that’s fantastic. What you don’t want is to be stuck in a situation for someone else that’s doing nothing but making you miserable. Selflessness is good, but in the end you’re the one dealing with the consequences of whatever actions you make.”  
      Bear nodded. “Thank you,” he said, the corner of his lips quirking up in a quiet attempt at a smile.  
     “What else are friends for?” Phil asked, the word _friends_ forcing its way out of his mouth and hanging in the air like a grim premonition of everything he and Bear were and all they never were going to be.  
      Bear stared at him for another long, stretched out minute before turning and following Abbie downstairs. Phil retreated to his chair, sitting down at his desk and clenching and unclenching his fists as his knuckles turned white. He steeled his breathing before opening up the catalogue and continuing cataloguing the newest shipment of books. Laughter drifted up the stars, Abbie’s mixed with Bear’s and though Phil tried to focus on the positives that at least Abbie was lovely and that Bear seemed like he was happy there was a strong part of him that couldn’t help but feel something strangely akin to jealousy.   
     The duo emerged from the stairs a couple of minutes later, Abbie with a stack of books tucked under her arm and Bear holding a book of his own.  
      “How long have you been working here?” Abbie asked, sliding the books across the counter. Bear followed suit wordlessly. Phil tried to catch his eye, but Bear seemed determined to avoid his eyes.  
      “A couple of years,” Phil said, trying to take comfort in the familiar routine of ringing up the books and putting them in bags. “It started as a university job and just kind of took off from there I guess. How long have you two known each other?” he tried to phrase the question casually, although he wasn’t sure how successful he’d been.  
       “Our parents are friends,” Abbie said with a small smile. “I think that they’d always hoped that we’d end up together in some way or another. We’ve been dating for about a week now.”  
      Phil almost choked as he slid the books into a bag, handing them to Abbie. He was so unbelievably stupid. “I hope you have a good day,” he said, falling back on the generic farewells. Abbie grinned.  
      “Thank you. You too,” she said, readjusting her grip on the bag. She cast a glance up at Bear. “You ready?” Bear nodded wordlessly, his expression impassive as he turned and followed Abbie to the door. She slipped her hand into his, and as Bear pulled open the door he bent down and whispered something in her ear. Abbie laughed, shaking her head as she gently closed the door behind her.  
     Phil stared at the door for a moment after the duo had left, willing his breathing to return to a somewhat normal rhythm. He slid his chair backwards, opening the desk drawer and retrieving the sticky-notes and marker. The words he’d started to write blurred before his eyes as he blinked, and Phil scowled, uncapping the sharpie and scribbling over the words. He crumpled the note up as he stood, grabbing his coat and keys.  
      He let the wad of paper fall to the ground, grinding it underneath his heel as he left without another glance backwards.

…

    “What’s up?”  
     Phil played with the edge of his menu, deliberately looking anywhere but at Daisy. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  
      “You’ve spent the last four days locked in your flat and you haven’t been answering any of the messages Liam and I’ve sent,” Daisy’s gaze was unyielding as it met Phil’s reluctant one. “What’s wrong? You know you can tell me anything,” Daisy said, softening her tone. “Or don’t tell me anything. I just want to make sure that you’re okay.”  
      “Not feeling well is all,” Phil said carefully, bruising himself with reading the menu again. “Nothing too catastrophic.”  
      “Poorly enough that it would kill you to check your phone every now and then?” Daisy asked, skepticism lacing her tones. “I know you, and I also know that you’re attached to your phone almost constantly.” Phil opened his mouth half-heartedly, but she cut him off before he could speak. “And I don’t want to hear any bullshit about how ‘you never got the messages,’ because we both know that’s a lie.”  
      “I haven’t been feeling up to it,” Phil mumbled.   
     “You haven’t been ‘feeling up to it’ ever since you walked out on Liam and I a couple of weeks ago,” Daisy said. “I’m worried.”  
      “Don’t be.”  
      “Says you,” she scoffed. “I don’t need to know everything, and I respect if you don’t want to tell me everything. I want to know you’re okay, and I miss you.”  
    Phil was silent for a moment, his thoughts running in circles until they ran out of room and short circuited in a jumbled of snapped wires and fraying ends. “You were wrong,” he said finally, the words coming out harsher than he’d intended.  
  “Wrong about what?’  
  “What you said about living and taking risks. You were wrong.”  
   Sudden understanding bloomed in Daisy’s eyes as she visibly released a sigh. “Heartbreak?”  
    Phil stiffened. “No.”  
    “Who is he?” she asked gently, leaning forward and resting her elbows on the table.   
     Phil held his silence for another minute before caving in. There was a part of him that wanted to tell Daisy, to let the color of Bear’s eyes and the way he laughed spill from his lips until there was nothing left. Ultimately, that part won over. “Do you remember the student I mentioned?” he began reluctantly.   
     Daisy nodded slowly. “What happened?”  
    “He has a girlfriend,” Phil said bluntly, hearing and hating the bitter note in his voice. “Abbie. They came to Ink and Quill the other day and he told me.”  
      “I’m sorry.”  
      “They got together last week apparently,” Phil said, his words blurring together. “Right after he told me that he lo–” Phil’s eyes widened slightly, and he coughed, feeling himself turn beet red. “–That maybe there was a chance at being more than friends.”  
      Daisy’s eyes flashed with anger. “If I ever meet him–”  
     “It was my fault I think,” Phil said  “I told him that I didn’t feel the same way, at least not yet. He told me that he’d be happy to wait, but things can change.”  
       Daisy frowned. “Are you sure?”  
      “Sure about what?”  
     “That this was all his choice.”  
     “Why wouldn’t it be?” Phil muttered. “He seems happy enough.”  
     “Looks can be deceiving,” Daisy said wisely, reaching for her glass.  
     “Are you going to start sporting pretentious bullshit now?” Phil snorted.  
      “Obviously,” Daisy rolled her eyes, smiling. “That’s Liam’s job.”  
     “Still, you tried. Thank you.”  
       “I’m trying,” Daisy corrected. “I’m not going to stop. That’s not how friends work.”  
       “What makes you think it wasn’t his choice?” Phil asked before he could stop himself. It wasn’t like Daisy knew the situation any better than he did, but maybe it was just that he needed the hope no matter how false it might be.  
       “After telling someone that you love them it seems strange to me that you’d ask someone else on a date the following day,” Daisy said. Phil flinched slightly at her word choice, Daisy’s eyes reflecting sympathy mingled with pity back at him at his movement. “I don’t know,” she said, biting her lip and lacing her fingers together. “I’ll take on whomever you need me to, though.”  
       Phil suppressed a smile. The idea of five foot Daisy successfully taking on six foot Bear was laughable at best, but he appreciated the sentiment. “I’ll let you know if I need you to beat anyone up,” he said. “I’ll give them enough notice to run and look for a place to hide.”  
       “Be sure that you do,” Daisy said, holding her head high with a mockingly superior expression. She broke down into laughter a couple of seconds later. Phil had always thought that Daisy was one of those people with an infectious laugh–it was impossible to hear her laugh and not want to join in.  
       “Listen,” Daisy’s expression grew serious again, and she held Phil’s gaze. “I’m serious. It doesn’t have to be about this at all, but I miss you. Talk to me, please.”  
       “I will,” Phil said firmly. He tried for a smile, although like most things recently it felt flat and insincere. “I promise.”

…

      Phil was kneeling by one of the bookshelves when Bear next entered _Ink and Quill_. He didn’t turn or make any move to look around, but he could tell who it was by the footsteps and a kind of quiet energy that he only associated with the university student.  
       “Hey,” Bear said.  
       “Hi,” Phil said, gritting his teeth and forcing a smile on his face as he turned to greet Bear. “How’re you?”  
       “Fine,” Bear shrugged. “You?”  
        “Fine,” Phil said, making a move to stand. Bear held out his hand, raising an eyebrow. Phil sighed, hesitating before reaching out and grabbing it, Bear hauling him to his feet. He released Bear’s hand quickly, stepping back and trying to ignore the brief look of hurt that flashed across Bear’s features.  
        “Are you okay?” Bear asked slowly.  
       “Fine,” Phil answered shortly. He dropped his gaze slightly to the left. The only thing he could seem to picture when he looked at Bear was Abbie draped over his arm.  
        “Is that the only word you know how to say?”   
       “Fine,” Phil said again, mostly to be difficult but also in part to avoid having to give a straight answer.  
        Bear frowned, shoving his hands in his pockets. Phil resisted the urge to shift from foot to foot, instead settling for crossing his arms and staring directly back at Bear. “Call me crazy, but it seems like you’re angry at me or something.”  
       “No,” Phil denied, the refusal too quick to be truthful.  
       Bear started at him for another moment, something unreadable in his eyes. “I don’t know what this is about, but–”  
       “It’s not about anything,” Phil interjected. He unconsciously balled his fist, trying in vain to shove down the urge to punch a wall and simultaneously shove Bear against said wall and find out if his lips were as warm and soft as they looked. “I’m busy today,” he said more harshly than he’d intended. Bear leaving wasn’t going to solve anything, but Phil was desperate enough to try and convince himself that it would. When in doubt, Phil ran from his problems for as long as he could. The bigger the problem, the further he ran.  
       “Oh, okay,” Bear’s expression hardened. “That’s fine. I might not be able to stop by for a couple of days anyway, I’m going to visit Abbie’s family.”  
       Phil flinched, trying to cover up the gesture by uncrossing his arms. “Fine,” he said at length, at loss for anything else to say. Bear might’ve well have ripped out his heart and shattered it into a million pieces–it would’ve had about the same effect. “I hope you have a good time.”  
      “I will,” Bear said, and for the first time that Phil could remember his words sounded cold and distant.  
       “Good,” Phil said, clenching his hands into fists and wondering how much longer Bear was planning on dragging the conversation out.  
       “You know something, Cat?” Instead of turning and walking in the other direction, Bear took a step closer. “I don’t know what your problem is but you need to straighten it out.”  
       Phil inhaled sharply, counting the breaths in and out and forcing his heart rate to return to normal. “Excuse me?” he asked, finding his voice. “ _I’m_ the one that needs to straighten it out?” he repeated incredulously, his voice beginning to rise in volume. Frustration and jealousy weren’t a great combination at the best of times, and Phil was hardly at his best. “One day you’re telling me that you love me, the next thing I know you’re dating Abbie. I don’t think I’m the one that needs to ‘straighten anything out,’ and if I was you I’d recommend taking a look at your own issues before throwing the blame on someone else and hiding from the fact that sometimes, Bear, it’s not other people making your life hell, it’s you.”  
      “Fuck off,” Bear snapped, his voice shaking. “I–” he broke off, making a frustrated noise in the back of his throat. “I might be a lot of things, but at least I’m not a fucking coward who spends their life locked in a bookshop because they’re afraid of living.” He paused for breath, turning and opening the door violently as an older woman stumbled through. Bear grabbed her arm, hoisting her upright with a muttered apology before turning his glare back on Phil. “What I said before was a lie,” he added. “–And it’s always going to be a lie. I was stupid and confused and you were there and–and _convenient_ but it didn’t mean anything. I have Abbie now anyway. I still thought of you as my best friend, but now I’m not so sure.”  
       Out of everything Bear had said so far, it was his statement about friendship that stung the most. Phil recoiled, unable to hide the hurt from his expression as Bear stormed out of the shop, slamming the door behind him.  
       Phil closed his eyes, his heartbeat echoing in his ears as he tried to steel himself.  
      “Excuse me?” The question came from the woman, quiet and concerned. “Are you alright?”  
      Phil forced his eyes open, staring at her with a slightly vacant expression. The walls of reality seemed to be collapsing down around him as he blinked, and he didn’t know how to put them back up. He wasn’t sure he wanted to. “I don’t know,” he said truthfully, his voice shaking as he turned his back on the door and headed back to his desk, Bear’s words whispering in his mind.  
    _You were convenient. It didn’t mean anything._  
       He was so _fucking_ stupid.


	12. Chapter Twelve

     Phil sat on his sofa, chin propped on his hands as he stared at the box on the table in front of him. He let out a long breath through his teeth, letting his eyes flutter shut. He unclenched his fists, slowly reaching out and pulling the lid off of the box and tossing the lid on the sofa beside him.

      He pulled out a small stack of sticky-notes, stuck together in a thick wad of paper and marker. Phil carefully began to separate the postits, sticking them on the edge of the table. He worked methodically, trying not to focus on anything but the movements.

      After Bear had stormed out of _Ink and Quill_ and Phil had finished attending to the rest of the customers in a strictly business like fashion, he had shoved the contents of the desk drawer including Bear’s sticky-notes into a box he found sitting on top of one of the bookshelves. The box had been sitting on Phil’s kitchen counter for the past week, unopened.

       Phil cautiously reached for the first note, scanning the writing. Over the course of the past month or so, the writing had become as familiar as his own.

_Is this how we’re doing this? Bit old fashioned, don’t you think?_

     Phil blinked a couple of times in rapid succession before setting the note off to the side. He pulled the next one off of the table and reading it. It wasn’t like it was necessarily that he _needed_  read any of the notes–he had long since memorized them, but there was something strangely conclusive about reading the words one last time before the end.

  _Why do you sign your name with cat whiskers? See if these change your mind._

    Phil sucked in a breath as he reached for the next note. He wasn’t even sure why he was bothering to go through the notes. His original idea have been vaguely along the lines about finding some kind of closure, but so far all it served to do was make everything worse off than it had been before.

   _What should I call you?_

      Phil tensed, wincing and pressing a hand to his temple. It wasn’t even just the sticky-notes, lately everything seemed to carry some kind of meaning related to Bear. He had kept an eye out for the rest of the week despite himself, because even though he knew that harsh words had been exchanged on both sides and that Bear wasn’t coming back, he couldn’t help but cling onto whatever hope he had left, no matter how false it was.

      Phil sorted through a couple more of the notes, scanning them briefly as he went. A few phrases jumped out at him every now and then, but for the most part he continued reading in an as detached of a manner as he could.

      The feeling of heartbreak wasn’t so much as his heart breaking as a feeling that there was a lack of heart–a feeling that he didn’t have a heart and instead the only feeling left to register was empty and hollow, a kind of deadened feeling that the only thing left to feel was more pain. It was a contradiction in itself though, because even though Bear was the cause for Phil’s numb feeling he was also the only thing Phil could think of that would ever begin to take the pain away.

      Phil frowned, shaking himself out of his thoughts and reminding himself to focus as he continued onto the next note.

_If you could have any superpower in the world what would it be/what would your superhero identity be?_

     Phil suppressed a quiet smile despite himself, gently setting the note off to the side. Bear’s questions had been absurd most of the time, but sometimes a little return to childhood was a nice change from the rest of world and its demands of utmost maturity. That had been one of the many things he’d liked about Bear, it was easy to pretend that they were both children again when nothing mattered and the words didn’t have any meaning besides being writing scribbled on his wrist.

      Phil retrieved the next note, scanning it.

_Do you want to go to Starbucks?_

       Phil froze, tightening his grip on the sticky-note as he read and reread the question. The writing seemed to blur on the page in front of him, becoming an illegible mess of scribbles and mess of chaos and confusion. Phil let out a frustrated groan, burying his face in his hands and slouching back against the sofa. Bear’s note was still clutched tightly in his hand, as if it was some kind of lifeline that if he let go of would end in him lost and adrift in a sea of insanity.

    Which was laughable because right now it seemed like Bear was the cause for his loss of sanity.

     The only good thing he could think of that had stemmed from all of this was that at least he didn’t have to worry about his words hurting Bear any time soon. That didn’t solve the issue of Bear’s words hurting him himself though, and as hard as Phil tried to convince himself that he didn’t care and that it wasn’t his problem he silently made a promise that if Abbie so much as began to say those words to Bear he’d hunt her down and make sure she wasn’t able to finish.

     Having apparently lost Bear’s friendship along with the chance of anything else, he supposed that it wasn’t far to decide who could and couldn’t come into Bear’s life and say what they wanted. But life wasn’t fair and nothing about any of this was fair, and the only explanation that Phil could think of was that he had been right–he was broken and fucked up. None of this would’ve happened otherwise.

     Phil forced his eyes open, slowly sitting up and sticking the sticky-note beside the other ones. He set his jaw, carefully unsticking all of the notes and sweeping everything off of the table and back into the wooden box. _The Hobbit_ lay beside the box and he picked it up, flipping to a random and unspecified page and pressing the spine to his nose. He closed his eyes, inhaling.

     Phil’s addiction to the smell of books was something that had earned him more than enough teasing during his years at school, and he had gained too much pleasure from it to try and stop the habit. It wasn’t like there wasn’t other shit they’d find out about to use as leverage.

      He pulled the book away and ran his thumb over the scrawled writing in the margins. Bear’s script was smooth and deliberate, as though every word had a purpose. Phil’s writing looked more like someone who wrote down everything before thinking it over properly, and it wasn’t uncommon to see words and phrases completely crossed out. In contrast, Bear’s writing both on the sticky-notes and in The Hobbit was almost error free.

     Phil might be able to destroy the notes but aside from the more obvious sentimental value of Bear giving him his favorite book, burning a book was such an inconceivable idea that Phil rejected it immediately. He dropped the book back on the cushion beside him.

      He slammed the lid back on the box on firmly, standing and crossing to the fire with the box still in his hands.

       Phil knelt beside the fire, biting his lip and staring into the fire. The flames leaped and danced, casting shadows on the wall behind him as he watched. The fire seemed as though it was both alive and hungry and as Phil began to reach out hesitantly, holding the box over the open flames all he could see in his mind’s eye was the box going up in flames as smoke licked the corners of Bear’s notes.

      A split second later Phil jerked the box away, clutching it to his chest and rocking backwards away from the fireplace. He staggered to his feet, holding the box a little ways away from his chest and staring at it. The urge to burn it’s contents and be done with Bear and his fucking heart was tempting, but at the same time it was the only thing he had left of Bear at the moment and as hard as he tried that was the one thing Phil couldn’t get rid of.

     Phil choked on air as he forced oxygen into his lungs, feeling like he was drowning. Bear’s words were still circulating in his brain, taunting him and the walls of the apartment were closing in and threatening suffocation. Phil ran from his problems for as long as they could before they could catch up to him, and this was no expection.

     He set the box back on the kitchen counter in its original resting place, grabbing his coat and leaving the flat without another glance back.

…

      Starbucks was relatively busy as was to be expected on a Saturday mid-morning. Phil finished paying for his order, scanning for an available seat.

      “Hey!”

      Phil snapped to attention, spying Abbie sitting at a nearby table with a broad smile on her face.

       _Fuck_.

      “Hi,” he greeted, grinding his teeth together as he forced a somewhat pleasant expression on his face and a relatively friendly tone in his words.

     “Come on over and sit,” she waved, gesturing to the seat beside her with a grand gesture. Reluctantly, Phil set his scone and cup on the table, sliding into the seat beside Abbie as gracefully as he could.

      “How’re you doing?” he asked, relying on basic manners to get him through one stilted conversation enough to survive. At least Bear didn’t seem to be with her, that was something to be said for the situation at least.

      “Good,” Abbie said, with the air of someone who meant what she said with complete and utter sincerity. Phil envied her. “You?”

      “I’m doing well, thank you,” Phil said politely. “How’s your boyfriend?” he asked before he could help himself, regretting the words the moment they left his lips.

      “He’s doing well,” Abbie answered just as politely. “He says hello by the way,” she added An obvious lie–there was no way in hell Bear would ever have told his girlfriend to tell Phil hello, but Phil wasn’t about to call her bluff.

      “Tell him I say hello,” Phil said finally, feeling like he was going to be sick. He popped the lid off of his coffee, breaking the scone in two. “Do you want a bite?”

      “No, thanks for offering though,” Abbie said. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Phil wished that she wasn’t so fucking nice. It was hard to hold a grudge against someone when they were a decent person. He knew somewhere in his mind that a halfway decent person would be happy for Bear, but jealousy was a strong and highly persuasive emotion.

        Phil fished around in his brain for something to say as he took a sip from his cup, the liquid scorching his lips. He sputtered, setting the coffee down and making a face.

     “Are you okay?” Abbie asked, sounding vaguely alarmed.

    “Fine,” Phil managed, sucking in breaths of air repeatedly in a vain attempt to cool his mouth down. “Burnt my mouth.”

      Abbie winced. “I’m sorry,” she said sympathetically. “Is there anything I can get you that would help?”

       “I’ll be fine in a second,” Phil said, taking a bite of his scone in the hopes that introducing a new substance would help. Unfortunately, he hadn’t taken into consideration that the scone might be hot too. Phil sputtered, forcing the bite down and wincing. He made a grab for his coffee.

       “Wait–don’t do that! It’s hot!” Abbie warned through her laughter. “Oh god I shouldn’t be laughing, I’m sorry. You really don’t have very good luck, do you?”

        “Not really,” Phil muttered, feeling the corners of his lips begin to quirk up despite himself. In a different situation, maybe, he could’ve seen the two of them becoming friends. “I think I’m cursed is all.”

       “By a witch?”

       “Obviously,” Phil answered, blowing gently across the top of his drink in a halfhearted attempt to cool it down. “My stepmother at that,” he added wryly.

       “Are you going to attend the ball with the help of your fairy godfather and some talking mice?” Abbie laughed.

       “Godfather,” Phil corrected. “I’m all for equality. You can call me Cinderellis.”

      “I hope you find your princess,” Abbie said with a smile. “Or prince,” she amended. “Either one, after all we’re ‘all for equality.’”

       “Of course,” Phil laughed. “We wouldn’t want to discriminate.”

     “Wasn’t there a book about someone called Cinderellis?” Abbie asked, frowning in concentration. “I think it was a fairytale parody or something?”

      “Gail Carson Levine,” Phil said, searching his memory. “I think.”

     “I do too,” Abbie agreed. “Sounds right anyway.”

      “I’ll have to look it up tonight,” Phil said aloud, more to himself as a general note than as any kind of message to Abbie.

      Abbie leaned back in her chair, gripping her cup and locking her eyes with Phil’s. They were a brilliant shade of green, clear and bright and strangely mesmerizing. “I wanted talk to you about something,” she began.

      Phil could sense the impending topic–and he could also sense the impending danger of Abbie mentioning Bear’s real name. While he found himself wondering about Bear’s real name more than was probably healthy given the circumstances, there was something safe about not knowing. Besides, learning Bear’s name at this stage in the game was hardly going to help erase him from Phil’s mind.

       “Is this about Bear?” Phil jumped in before she could continue, figuring that if he initiated the conversation Abbie would avoid using Bear’s name. At her confused expression, he clarified. “Nickname.”

        “Yeah, I know,” she said. “I just didn’t know that you called him that too.” Phil cringed, fighting an urge to slap himself in the face. Bear had already said several times that his family and friends used to call him Bear when he was younger, although somewhere in the process Phil had adapted it as a nickname strictly between the two of them.

        “What about him?” Phil asked, trying to steer the conversation back on track.

        “I wanted to tell you that I’m glad that he has you,” Abbie said bluntly. “I’m glad that you two are friends. Ever since he met you a couple of months ago he seems happier almost, as if he’s seeing life in a positive light the way that we’ve been trying to get him to do for years. So thank you for that.”

       Abbie’s words were unexpected but only served to make Phil feel even more like shit as he readjusted his position with a forced smile. “Thank you.”

       “He talks about you a lot you know,” Abbie said, almost conspiratorially.

      “What about? All good things I assume?” Phil said sarcastically, crossing his arms.

       “What else?” Abbie smiled. “In general, you just happen to come up in the conversation a lot. That’s why it was so nice to finally meet you. I like you, Cat. You seem like a lovely person.”

      “I like you too,” Phil threw back not entirely untruthfully. Because the thing was, he _did_ like Abbie. She was intelligent and funny and everything that he wasn’t and never could be for Bear. And maybe that was the problem, because even though Abbie seemed like a wonderful person there was still the smallest part of Phil that couldn’t help but hate her.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

 

     Phil returned to _Ink and Quill_ bright and early Monday morning, sending a silent prayer to any deity he could think of that Bear and Abbie wouldn’t stop by. But hard as he tried to convince himself that he was done with Bear and he didn’t fucking care what he did any more, that was a lie because part of Phil wanted nothing more than to walk in and see Bear sitting at Phil’s desk with a smile.

    Zac had taken control of the shop last Friday, and as Phil hung up his coat and began to move towards his desk he could see a piece of stationary stuck on top of a stack of books.

      Frowning, he dropped his keys on the desk and picked up the note.

     _Hey Phil_

_‘Bear’ stopped by again yesterday. He said to tell you that he ran into a friend of yours the other day–Tholia I think her name was–and to let you know that he still thinks you’re a dickhead, but that he’s stopping by at some point Monday. Charming boyfriend you’ve got yourself._

_Zac_

      Phil scowled, dropping the note back on the desk and sitting down in his chair with an audible thud. His day already hadn’t gotten off to the best start, what with missing his alarm and not having enough time for coffee. Phil had always liked knowing that there was some sort of routine or structure to his daily life, and when things didn’t go according to plan he felt disoriented and a little strange. Bear was the last person he was in the mood for seeing right now aside maybe from Abbie, yet at the same time there was an odd mixture of anticipation and excitement as he eyed the door cautiously.

      He turned on the computer, tapping his fingers impatiently on the desk as he waited and running through a mental list of what he needed to accomplish before the day was up. Order and purpose were the only two things he could think of to try and take his mind off of Bear.

      Phil glanced up sharply as the door opened, a man with dark red hair walking into the shop with a slightly vacant expression on his face as he looked around.

      “Can I help you?” Phil asked politely.

      “No, I’m just looking around,” the man answered somewhat absently as he crossed to a shelf and ran his fingers over the spines of the books. There was brief silence before he spoke again. “There’s something beautiful about words, isn’t there?”

       “I guess,” Phil said, thrown at the sudden change in topic.

       “Twenty six letters, yet depending on the order in which you arrange them they can elicit an endless range of emotions from laughter to tears,” the man said wisely. “But some words only seem to bring pain.”

       “You don’t say,” Phil muttered, instinctively pulling his sleeves down further over his wrists more out of habit than any actual need.

       “Have you ever thought about the fact that they only bring pain because we let them?” the man asked. His eyes drifted away from the ceiling and locked with Phil’s, gray and deadly serious.

       “They say that most stuff is in your mind,” Phil managed, at a loss for anything else to say.

      “Sometimes I think that we let too much control us and hold us back from what we really want,” the man said, unblinking. “And then when we do all it serves to do is bite us in return. But that’s the beauty of the situation,” he added grandly with a dramatic sweeping gesture. “You just have to pick yourself up again and try again.”

       “Is there anything you’re looking for in particular?” Phil asked desperately. He really wasn’t in the mood to engage in a conversation about the meaning of life, and right now the idea of trying to think without the aid of caffeine seemed impossible.

       “Not that I can say so,” the man said thoughtfully. “I just wanted to tell you that most of our issues are our mindset, and that if we can change that than we can do anything.”

       Phil nodded awkwardly, feeling the silence stretch in the air as he bruised himself logging onto the computer. He rested his chin on his hand as he waited, the man wandering between the shelves.

       “Do you live in London?” the man asked abruptly.

      “Yeah. Do you?” Phil asked to be polite.

       “Just moved,” the man answered conversationally.

      “Do you like it?”

      “So far,” the man said. “I think so at any rate, although I’ll need to wait before anything definite is decided. What’s your name?”

       Phil hesitated. Normally the idea of any introduction at all was enough to tighten his throat and make his head spin, but at the moment Phil couldn’t bring himself to give much of a fuck about anything. “Phil Lester.”

      “Nice to meet you, Phil Lester. My name is Dan,” the man said without missing a beat. In those split seconds following the man’s statement, Phil suddenly felt as though all the air in the room had been sucked out. He choked as his eyes widened, heart pounding in his chest as he glanced furiously around waiting for something–anything, to happen. A meteorite could’ve struck the earth and it wouldn’t have surprised him. He closed his eyes, listening to the sound of blood rushing in his ears and wondering how much longer it was going to be before the blood stopped completely.

      After a couple more seconds of feeling like he was going to be sick, Phil slowly opened his eyes. The man–Dan, Phil reminded himself–shot him a quizzical glance. “Is everything alright?”

      Phil opened his mouth, closing it almost as soon as he had. Nothing seemed to be working, and all that was emerging was silence. He sucked in a breath, slowly releasing it and trying to relax as he ran shaking fingers through his hair. This Dan evidently wasn’t his soulmate, which meant that the threat of an unnamed stranger and the same deadly words still lay somewhere in his future.

     “F–Fine,” he said, stumbling over his words as he forced a smile on his face. “Are you sure there isn’t anything I can get you.”

     Dan tilted his head as he surveyed one of the books. His fingers lingered on its spine, tapping it before pulling it out. He brought the book up to the counter. “Just this.”

     “That’s seven fifty,” Phil said, ringing up the book and putting it into a plastic bag. Dan handed him the correct amount of money, taking the bag in return. Their hands brushed and Phil stiffened, pulling his hand away as quickly as he could.

     “Thank you,” Dan said. “Remember what I said!” he added as he let the door slam behind him. Remembering something a complete stranger had said before saying Phil’s words but somehow not ending up to be his soulmate wasn’t necessarily an experience that he was anxious to remember.

       Seeing Bear was the last thing Phil felt like doing, and as he leaned back in his chair he felt his heart rate begin to slow and return to a slightly more regulated beat. He clutched the edge of his desk, wincing and shaking his head as if that was going to do anything to shake him out of his daze.

      Phil frowned, forcing himself to snap out of it as he returned to logging onto his email. The typical ten minute wait ensued as he waited for the browser to load while he prayed that Bear wasn’t planning on showing up anytime soon.

     As if on cue, the doorknob turned and Bear stumbled through. He froze as his eyes met Phil’s, swallowing visibly. Phil felt immobilized in his chair as Bear tentatively began to walk towards his desk. All he could think was that it was fucking typical, and as he forced a somewhat reasonable expression on his face he wondered if it was ever possible for him to have a break.

      “Hey,” Bear said cautiously.

     “Hey,” Phil said in return just as cautiously. “How are you?”

     “Fine,” Bear shrugged quickly. “Abbie told me you said hi.”

     The mention of Abbie didn’t do wonders to improve Phil’s levels of irritation. “I’m sure she did,” he said, the words sounding more bitter than he’d intended.

       “If I didn’t know better I’d say you were jealous,” Bear said, raising an eyebrow.

       “You wish,” Phil said before he could stop himself. He usually wasn’t this open and free with his speech, but he suspected it had something to do with not giving a fuck.

       “Not really,” Bear said, his eyes narrowing slightly. “I’m dating Abbie.”

       “So you’ve said,” Phil said as cordially as he could bring himself to sound. “Only twenty times or so.”

     “What’s your problem?”

      “Nothing! I’m just saying that there’s not any need to tell me something that I already know.”

      “Most friends would be happy.”

      “We’re not friends anymore, remember?” Phil couldn’t help himself.

       Bear stared at him in silence for a moment. “You really are a dickhead.”

      Phil wasn’t going to lie–the words stung as he straightened his posture. “Thanks,” he said sarcastically. “But you know what they say, it takes one to know one.”

     “Are you whipping out the sass now?”

     “Why do you always have to be so difficult all of the time?” Phil snapped, hating the tremor in his voice.

     “I’m the difficult one?” Bear shot back. “I’m the one trying to apologize, you’ve done nothing but make this more difficult.”

    “Is this your idea of an apology?” Phil snorted. “I can tell the effort you’re really putting into it.”

     “Right,” Bear said abruptly, his eyes blazing with anger. “I’m so fucking done with you and your drama. It’s always about you and how you’re too much of a coward to even try and make a difference. I ran into your friend the other day and she told me that I should try talking to you again, but honestly I’m not sure it’s worth it.”

      If he had been in his right mindset, Phil would be aware that their argument was completely trivial and nonexistent, but stacked on top of the previous hurt and still feeling wired from his encounter with Dan he was already close to his breaking point.

     He stared back at Bear, making his expression as blank, cold, and empty as he could. Phil didn’t get pissed often, but when he did all hell broke loose. “I want my ticket back,” he said.

     Bear flinched. The slam of the door was the only response. Phil buried his face in his arms, shutting out the rest of the world and engulfing himself in darkness. Maybe if he stayed there long enough, oblivion would swallow him whole.

…

    His bed gave way underneath him as Phil turned on his side and stared up at the ceiling. He wondered what the exact definition of love was, how one fell into it, and more importantly how one went about getting out of it. He wondered it it was possible to hate someone and love them at the same time, and what qualified _love_ from _crush_ and _hate_ from _dislike_.

     Above all else, he wondered what Bear was doing.

    Because oblivion hadn’t swallowed Phil whole yet, but he figured it was only a matter of time before that, love, or hatred reached him first.

     But Bear was right and Phil was hurt and he was too fucking scared, so he lay on his bed in the approaching darkness and counted the seconds until he fell asleep, wondering how long it would take before he went insane.

…

     Phil was baking cookies when Bear texted. He set his phone on the counter, drying his hands on his jeans as he opened the door. Bear looked up with a carefully guarded expression and looking like he was regretting the decision already.

     “What are you doing here?” Phil asked sharply, crossing his arms and leaning against the door frame. “You’ve said enough. I think you’ve already made it clear that you hate me,” he added darkly, grimacing. The words were painful enough to think, let alone speak.

      Hurt flickered in Bear’s eyes. “Don’t say that,” he snapped.

     “Say what?” Phil asked. “That you hate me? It’s true, I think you proved that point enough.”

    “How the hell could you ever begin to think that?” Bear asked, his voice shaking with badly suppressed emotion. “I could never hate you. Being pissed off at someone doesn’t mean I could ever hate them, especially not you.”

     “You sure about that?”

     “Shut up and let me finish.”

     “Carry on Cap’n,” Phil said mockingly. Bitterness was an unfamiliar emotion, and one that he didn’t think he liked all too much.

      “You’re a dickhead, but fuck I miss you,” Bear said bluntly.

      The declaration effectively shut Phil up for a moment as he tried to scramble his thoughts enough to form even a slightly coherent sentence. “I miss you too,” he settled on.

       Something in Bear’s eyes seemed to clear. “I’m sorry,” he said in a subdued tone.

       “I’m sorry too,” Phil said truthfully. “I shouldn’t have said what I did.”

      “I shouldn’t have either,” Bear muttered. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, hands shoved awkwardly in his pockets as he stared a point somewhere in front of Phil. Phil sighed, trying to brace himself as he stood and grabbed Bear, pulling him tight against him in a hug. He closed his eyes as Bear’s head fit naturally in the gap between his cheek and his shoulder. Bear felt warm and safe, and Phil had to firmly remind himself that anything that happened was simply platonic.

    “Does that mean I get my ticket back?” Bear asked, his voice muffled by Phil’s shoulder.

    Phil couldn’t help a small huff of laughter from escaping. “Yes, it definitely means you get your ticket back,” he said, tightening his grip on Bear.

     “I was going to come anyway,” Bear joked. “I’m glad that you made it official though, otherwise I would’ve had to find some way to sneak in.”

    “What do you say we take this inside?” Phil asked after another couple of seconds had passed. He hated to stop hugging Bear, but the door was hardly the most comfortable place. Phil felt Bear nod as he stepped backwards, giving him more clearance.

     Bear ducked through the door, sniffing the air suspiciously. “Did you bake cookies?” he asked hopefully.

     Phil couldn’t hide the smile as he led Bear back to the bar. “Just in time,” he said, opening the fridge and retrieving the milk. He poured two glasses before sliding the cooling tray of chocolate chip cookies closer to Bear. “Have at it.”

      Bear attacked the first cookie without another comment. His eyes rolled back into his head and he let out a muffled moan, sucking in a breath and moaning again. “It’s orgasmic,” he said, laughing slightly as he took another bite. “They’re amazing.”

      Phil laughed. “Thank you,” he said. “I’m not sure whether I should feel flattered that you’re comfortable enough to show me your organism face or weirded out.”

      “To be honest, probably a little bit of both,” Bear said. “It’s been a while, what’s up?”

      “Work, sleep, internet,” Phil made a face. “My life is so exciting.”

      “I can tell,” Bear answered sarcastically. “About the same for me actually. Clearly I’m living the high life.”

      “Clearly,” Phil agreed. “We know how to live.”

      “Quality of life people,” Bear announced. He watched with interest as Phil dipped his cookie in his milk. “I always hated dipping cookies in milk.”

       Phil feigned horror. “That’s like a classic childhood experience. What was your childhood without cookies and milk? I’ll tell you what it was–horrible.”

      “I’m fine eating and drinking them, but bits of the cookie fall off into the milk and they get all soggy and gross,” Bear shuddered theatrically. “My childhood could’ve been better, maybe the cookies thing was the missing piece.”

      “Better?” Phil asked causally.

      Bear turned his face towards the table so that Phil couldn’t see his expression. “You know how it is,” he said finally. “School’s school.” Phil couldn’t help but notice that the excuse of school seemed to be what Bear pinned most of his problems on. While school probably was part of it, there had to be more than that going on.

      “What do you say that after we’re done we play something?” Phil asked, opting for a subject change.

     Bear grabbed on the new thread. “I’m going to kick your ass.”

    “I beat you last time,” Phil pointed out, fighting a smile. “I can do it again.”

     “Right, technically I would’ve won if not for your shitty ‘all or nothing,’” Bear began, slamming his hand on the table in mock anger.

      “Are we going for a rematch of _Mario Kart_?” Phil asked.

     “You’re on.”

      “See? This is why I need you. Who else could I force to play _Mario Kart_ with me endlessly?”

    “You’d live a raceless life,” Bear said.

     “There a lot of things my life wouldn’t be if you weren’t in it.

…

     Bear returned to _Ink and Quill_ a couple of days later. It was raining again, big, thick drops of rain that hit the pavement and shattered like glass. The shop had been quiet all day, and Phil was gearing up for closing when the door opened.

     Bear stomped his feet on the carpet, and as his head was bowed and staring at the floor Phil was painfully reminded of the last time Bear had stormed into _Ink and Quill_ freezing and dripping wet. At least he was wearing a raincoat this time, although the hood was down and water poured off the strands of his hair and from everywhere else on his body and onto the floor.

     “Bear?” Phil asked tentatively. Bear gave no indication that he’d heard Phil as his eyes remained fixed on the floor, the rain beating down on the roof overhead. “Are you okay?” Phil slowly began to make his ways towards the university student, Bear still unmoving before him. He gently grabbed Bear’s hands, holding them in his and frowning. “Your hands are freezing.”

      Silence.

     “At least take off your coat,” Phil coaxed. Feeling slightly uncomfortable and a bit like a mum, he reached up and unzipped Bear’s coat. Bear silently held out his arms as Phil shucked the coat off of him and hung it on the coat rack behind them. There was something very clearly wrong, but he had no idea how to fix it or even if it was fixable. “Why don’t you come in and–”

     Phil’s next words were cut off as Bear suddenly pushed him against the wall, and none too gently. Bear came another step closer, his body pressed against Phil as his warmth seeped into Phil. He moved his arm from where it pinned him to the wall and in a fluid motion leaned in and pressed his lips to Phil’s.

     Phil’s eyes widened, and the rational part of him screamed to push Bear away and ask what the hell was wrong with him _he had a girlfriend._ But Bear’s lips were every bit as warm and soft as Phil had thought they would be, and it was Bear after all that had initiated the kiss, not him.

     So despite the guilt beginning to flood the back of his mind, Phil kissed him back, flipping the positions and slamming Bear against the wall instead, pulling at his bottom lip with teeth and biting harshly. Bear let out a moan in the back of his throat as his fingers tangled in Phil’s hair, warm and pliant in Phil’s hands as he drew him even closer, craving every inch of contact that he could and feeling like every part of him that touching Bear was on fire.

    Phil knew that what they were doing was wrong, and he felt guiltier by the minute. But as Bear wrapped his legs around Phil’s waist and the two stumbled over to one of the overstuffed armchairs before collapsing, Phil couldn’t remember ever feeling more alive. And maybe that was the problem, because he was completely and utterly fucked in more ways than one.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

     Phil had never been good at keeping secrets. No matter what it was, a stolen cookie, neglected homework, one glance at his face answered any questions. Therefore, it was only a matter of time before he let slip the kiss. After Bear had left and Phil had had a chance to recollect his sanity, the guilt came flooding back.

      He had never thought of himself as being someone who aided another person in adultery, yet there he sat imaging that the taste of Bear’s lips was still lingering on his as he wracked his brains for where it had all gone wrong.

      It made it all the harder that Phil genuinely liked Abbie. Not that anyone deserved to be cheated on, but it was all the worse that Abbie was a perfectly lovely person. Phil released a muffled groan, running his fingers through his hair and slumping on the kitchen counter. A cup of coffee sat beside him, untouched. It was a sorry state when he was too upset to consume caffeine.

       A rap sounded on his door, and Phil lifted his head. He stumbled to the door, flinging it open. Unsurprisingly, Bear was waiting with a slightly vacant look in his eyes.

      “Hey,” Bear said, sounding distant.

       “We need to talk,” Phil began, opening the door further.

       “Not right now,” Bear said, and the eyes that met Phil’s were distracted as if seeing something miles away.

       “Look, I know that–” Phil’s words were cut off as Bear stepped forwards and pressed his lips to Phil’s. Phil frowned, pushing Bear away only somewhat reluctantly. “You have a girlfriend,” he reminded Bear firmly. “We can’t do this again.”

        “I’m going to break up with her,” Bear said quietly, not meeting Phil’s eyes.

        “Why?”

        “I don’t love her,” Bear answered simply, meeting Phil’s eyes. Phil couldn’t detect a lie in his expression, but there was something broken and vacant in Bear’s gaze as he stared at Phil. As Phil watched, Bear grabbed him and yanked him closer again until their lips collided and this time Phil didn’t push him away.

      Phil staggered backwards, turning and pressing Bear against the wall. His lips glided across Bear’s, gasps escaping from both of them between gentle pecks. The same exhilaration and fire that had been present the last time they’d kissed returned, and if Phil was drowning in the dark Bear was the spark that sent him up in flames.

      “Why is it always the wall?” Bear muttered against Phil’s lips.

      “It’s a bit uncomfortable, isn’t it?” Phil asked with a quiet smile as he deepened the kiss, slamming the door shut with his foot as they fell further back against the wall. Everything about them seemed to fit together perfectly, and for a moment if Phil closed his eyes he could almost pretend that there wasn’t anything left but the two of them–Cat and Bear.

…

     For most of Phil’s life, Liam had been one of his best friends. The two had spent countless nights marathoning various television shows surrounded by mountains of popcorn and chocolate. Phil had sprinted for the lunch room, searching for a place to hide before Jonah and the rest of his friends arrived. Liam was sitting alone at a table, playing with his Game Boy underneath of the table. Phil slid into the seat next to him, ducking his head and opening his lunch. He cast a curious peek over the top of the game, stiffening as Jonah skidded into the cafeteria.

    Liam had glanced up, frowning as he quickly analyzed the scene. He quietly tapped Phil on the shoulder, engaging him in an avid conversation about _Crash Bandicoot_ and _Pokemon_.

    They had only fought once that Phil could distinctly remember and though he didn’t remember much of the details–something about a stolen videogame?–he did remember hiding in his room for the remainder of the day until Liam snuck in through his window.

      Meeting Liam had been one of the only ways Phil could think of to justify the daily abuse from Jonah and the rest of his posse.

     “How’s work?” Phil asked idly. He and Liam were sitting in Phil’s flat, empty takeout boxes sitting on the table in front of them. It had been a while since the two had been able to spend time alone.

     “It goes,” Liam shrugged. “Nothing too eventful.” After graduating from university, Liam had been working for the BBC as an internship on lighting for various television programs. “Benedict Cumberbatch was almost decapitated the other day,” he added casually, as though the words _Benedict_ _Cumberbatch_ and _the_ _other_ _day_ were two completely natural and everyday occurrences.

     “How did that happen?” Phil asked, hiding a smile as he took a sip of his water. “Are we still going to get the next season of _Sherlock_? God knows it takes long enough without brain damage to one of the leading actors.”

     “ _Sherlock_ is safe for now,” Liam assured him. “One of the props hadn’t been secured properly, and during one of the scenes it started to fall. He was able to dodge out of the way in time, but it was a close call.”

     “What happened next?”

     “You know what he’s like,” Liam rolled his eyes fondly. “Always the gentleman. He laughed it off.”

     “I wish things like that happened with my job,” Phil said not entirely untruthfully. “You get to watch celebrities become decapitated while I’m stuck sorting shipments of books.”

      “Don’t start giving me shit about your job,” Liam reprimanded with a smirk. “I know you enjoy it–you’d quit otherwise.”

      “I do like it to a certain degree,” Phil conceded. It was true, out of all the places to work and jobs to have _Ink and Quill_ was one of the best. Aside from the fact that he wouldn’t have met Bear otherwise, the owner had always been nice and it paid well enough. “It beats having chocolate oranges thrown at my head.” He gave a mock shudder. “That was a low point.”

     “I’m shouldn’t be laughing, but out of all the possible items the fact that it was a chocolate orange for some reason makes it that much better.”

     “Laugh away,” Phil grumbled.

     “Don’t be salty about it,” Liam joked. “You survived.”

     “Barely,” Phil pulled an exaggerated expression of pain. “I think I may have permanently disabled something.”

      “That’s a shame, isn’t it?” Liam asked sarcastically. “We wouldn’t want that, would we?”  
      “I hate you,” Phil told him, wadding his napkin into a ball and pitching it at Liam. It drifted to the ground a few feeble inches later.

       “No you don’t,” Liam said cheerfully, wadding up his own napkin and throwing it at Phil with considerably more accuracy.

      “I wouldn’t be so sure if I was you,” Phil said with a smile. “You never know. Maybe this entire time I actually do hate you and I’ve been thinking of how to get rid of you.”

      “You’re kind of open with your plan if that was your intention,” Liam said.

      “You’ll never know,” Phil said mysteriously.

       “You trying to go Bond doesn’t work very convincingly.”

      “Not even a little bit?” Phil wheedled.

       “Not even a little bit,” Liam said completely stone faced. “Anyway, you know that you love me.”

      “Do I though?” Phil pretended to ponder the question for a moment. “I don’t know…”

      “Shut up,” Liam rolled his eyes, laughing as he elbowed Phil. “I have something I need to ask you,” he said, recovering as he met Phil’s eyes earnestly.

      “What is it?” Phil asked slightly warily. Liam had never been known for having the smartest ideas.

       “I’m thinking about asking Daisy if she’d like to go on a date with me,” Liam said in one breath. He eyed Phil after he was finished, tensing visibly.

      “You going for a Cheeky Nandos?” Phil asked, smirking. Liam elbowed him again. “You handed that one to me,” he defended, laughing. “Congratulations by the way. I don’t see what the issue here is.”

       “Rejection?” Liam said obviously, staring at Phil as though he was from another planet. “Dude, have you ever actually had a girlfriend?”

       “Yes!” Phil said indignantly.

      “Really?”

      “There was Lucy in Year Five, Alice in Year Seven, Maria in Year Nine…” Phil trailed off sheepishly, realizing that he’d only confirmed Liam’s point. “Yeah.”

      “I’ll rephrase,” Liam said with a smirk. “Someone who wasn’t a stupid twelve year old crush.”

      “I was fourteen in Year Nine,” Phil pointed out. “Don’t diss young love.”

      “You dated whatshisface for a while,” Liam said. “I’ll give you points for that although boys and girls are two different species. And before you go all technical and start correcting me, I’m aware that biologically speaking we’re the same species.”

       “Girls like flowers,” Phil said after a brief hesitation. “And chocolate.”

       “Brilliant,” Liam shook his head, trying to hide his smile. “I don’t know why I’m asking you anyway out of all people. It’s not like your love life is filled with many twists and turns.”

        “I’ve had you and Daisy,” Phil said fairly. “I guess it’s just that I never really needed anyone else.” Phil had always been introverted, and Daisy and Liam had fulfilled his occasional wants for human interaction. He and James had dated for a couple of months, but in the end what he had was enough.

       He also had Bear, although Phil wasn’t sure whether that counted for much of anything at this point.

…

      They had relocated from the wall to the sofa. The end screen for _Just_ _Dance_ was still loaded on the television as Phil and Bear were tangled up in each other, completely oblivious to anything that wasn’t the other.

      Phil gently brushed Bear’s fringe out of his face, his hand sliding down to lightly brush Bear’s cheek as the two continued kissing. Bear’s lips brushed his lightly, and Phil pulled away enough so that his lips were barely ghosting Bear’s.

      “Did anyone ever tell you that you’re a sore loser?” he teased.

     “I just like to win,” Bear retorted.

     “I guess it’s too bad for you that I’m better.”

     “Did anyone ever tell you that you that you’re a fucking awful winner?”

    “They did, funnily enough. Personally I think it just adds to my charm,” Phil said sarcastically, smiling slightly.

     “Humility’s also a good trait. Being humble is attractive.”

     “I’m that too.” Bear made a dubious noise and Phil smirked. “That’s what you love about me.”

     It was Bear’s turn to smirk as he locked his arms around the back of Phil’s neck, pulling him in closer until their noses were resting against each other. “Shut up and kiss me.”

    “If you insist,” Phil said graciously, pressing Bear against the sofa cushions as he swung a leg across to straddle him. Bear straightened his posture, sliding forwards as Phil wrapped his legs around his waist. “I hate long legs,” Phil announced at large. “I wish I could cut them off.”

     “Why’s that?” Bear asked. “You kind of need them for a little thing called walking.”

     “They get in the way of more important things.”

     “Such as?”

     “Kissing you,” Phil answered softly, leaning in and closing the remaining distance between them. Their lips met and as Bear made an impatient noise in the back his throat, moaning quietly as Phil deepened the kiss, Phil’s hands slipped underneath Bear’s shirt.

…

       There were things that happened sometimes that were completely unexpected. And walking into the chinese restaurant and spying Abbie and Dan sitting together at one of the tables was one of them. Phil froze, contemplating what the odds were of sneaking by before either of them noticed. As was his luck, Abbie happened to glance up. Her eyes lit up, and she gestured to the open chair with a smile.

      Seeing no polite way out of it, Phil slunk over to the chair and forced a smile on his face. “Hey,” he said, avoiding Dan’s curious stare. In light of everything that had happened recently with Bear, Dan and the words had slipped somewhere to the back of his mind to be dealt with at a later date. Seeing Dan, and especially with Abbie brought all of that rushing back to the forefront.

      “How’re you?” Abbie asked with genuine curiosity.

     Guilt began to consume Phil’s mind as he continued avoiding Dan’s gaze. “I’m doing well. Yourself?”

     “Fine,” Abbie said cheerily. Something about it seemed false as she quickly moved on, changing the subject. “This is Dan.”

      “We’ve met,” Phil said finally, leveling his gaze at Dan’s reluctantly. “Hi again,” he said lamely.

     “Hi,” Dan said with a faint smile. His eyes were almost the same shade as Bear’s, although there was a spark present in Bear’s eyes that was absent in Dan’s.

     “How’s school?” Phil asked. The conversation was in dire straits when it was reduced to small talk about school and the weather.

      “About as good as you could expect,” Abbie shrugged. “I have a midterm next week so that should be fun, but other than that it’s fairly routine.”

     “Everything’s routine in some way or another,” Dan said quietly. “Even the spontaneous can become routine after a certain point.”

      “Dan’s a fan of pretentious Hallmark bullshit,” Abbie remarked fondly.

      “Maybe working for Hallmark’s my true calling,” Dan said in a dead serious tone.

      “Who knows? Maybe it is,” Abbie said faintly. She directed her next words at Phil, twisting her napkin in lap. “I have a question.”

       “Is this about Bear?” Phil guessed correctly.

      “Do you know if something’s wrong? He won’t talk to me or answer my texts or anything, and lately it seems like he’s withdrawing. I was wondering if he’s said anything to you about it or…”

     “No, sorry,” Phil said sympathetically, the guilt deepening with each syllable. It might’ve been his imagination, but as he bit his lip he thought he could still taste the remnants of his and Bear’s last kiss. “I can ask him if you’d like?”

      “Yes, please if that’s not too much trouble,” Abbie said, looking relieved as she smiled. “Thank you, Cat. You’re the best.”

        “What are friends for?” Phil joked, trying for a smile and undoubtedly failing miserably.

      Abbie pushed back her chair, standing abruptly. “I’ll be right back,” she said, turning and disappearing without another word. Phil leaned back in his chair, the silence between he and Dan stretching out long and painfully.

      “Phil Lester,” Dan said. Phil jerked his head up from studying the table, looking at him in surprise. Dan had seemed withdrawn, and he hadn’t expected him to make the first move. There really was something remarkably like Bear in his gaze as it met Phil’s thoughtfully.

      “Yeah?”

     Dan looked as though he was steeling himself as he asked his next question quietly. “–Will you go on a date with me?”

…

     Bear was already waiting by the time Phil arrived. Two cups of coffee sat on the table, an untouched muffin somewhere in the middle as he stared out of the window with an unreadable expression on his face.

      “Hey,” Phil said, giving him a slightly concerned look as he pulled the chair out opposite Bear.

     “Hey.”

     “What’s up? I thought you were at university today?”

     Bear shrugged, harsh and abrupt. “University can screw itself.”

     Phil frowned, Bear’s expression didn’t look any less dark than it had last time. “Do you want to talk about it?”

     “By ‘it’ do you mean sex?” Bear inquired sarcastically, tearing his gaze away from the window and popping the lid off of his drink.

     “No!” Phil said indignantly, feeling himself begin to flush. Due to the unfortunate paleness of his skin, Bear undoubtedly could tell that he was flustered.

     “To answer your question,” Bear answered after a moment’s pause. “Not particularly.”

     “This–us–we…” Phil sighed, gritting his teeth together in frustration. “We can’t do this anymore,” he settled on finally.

      “Drink coffee?”

     “Would it kill you to cut the sarcasm for once in your life?” Phil asked wearily. Seeming to pick up on Phil’s tone, Bear crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.

     “The sarcasm has been cut,” he announced.

      “Thank you,” Phil said in mild exasperation. “You’re dating Abbie,” he said finally. “And this isn’t fair to her, or you, or me.”

      “What do you want me to do about it?” Bear asked flatly.

      “I saw Abbie the other day,” Phil said. “She asked me if there was anything wrong or something, and that you hadn’t been talking to her lately.”

     Bear gave an irritable jerk of his shoulders. “She’s just reading into things too much.”

    “Are you sure about that? She’s worried about you, and if you’re avoiding her because of…” Phil trailed off. “This isn’t right. You told me that you were going to break up with her, and if you’re not that’s fine but we can’t go on doing this.”

     Bear was silent for a minute before his eyes flickered up to meet Phil’s. “You can’t tell me that you haven’t felt something whenever we’ve kissed. Fuck, even holding hands with you makes me feel like there’s this charge of electricity between us.”

     “I have felt something,” Phil said quietly. “But that still doesn’t make it right.”

     “Fuck what’s right then, because I don’t care,” Bear snapped, his voice shaking.

    “Look, if you don’t want to be in a relationship with Abbie why don’t you just tell her that?” Phil asked gently.

     Bear stared at him, an unreadable expression on his face. “It’s complicated,” he said at length.

      “I have plenty of time if you’d care to elaborate.”

     “Not really.”

     Phil sighed, gritting his teeth together as he formed his next words carefully. “What I feel doesn’t matter. What does matter right now is that you have a perfectly lovely girlfriend who we’re assuming you’re at least expressing some desire to want to be with. She’s concerned about you, and for good reason. It’s not right for us to be sneaking around behind her back, and if you want to be with Abbie than you need to be with her. Not me.”

     Bear was silent. “I don’t want to lose you.”

    “You’re not going to lose me,” Phil said. “We’re still best friends, remember? This is just going to take a little working around, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to up and leave. The whole point of friends is that you stick with each other regardless of what happens.”

    “I didn’t mean as a friend,” Bear mumbled.

    “What?”

    “Nothing,” Bear raised his voice, returning to more of a normal volume. He gave an irritated noise, running his fingers through his hair in agitation. “I’m so stupid sometimes.”

    “No you’re not,” Phil said automatically.

    “I don’t know what I was thinking,” Bear spat, self-loathing all but oozing out of every word. “I’m sorry.”

      “Don’t be sorry to me,” Phil said. “If you’re going to feel indebted to anyone, it should be Abbie. If you didn’t forget, I went along with it willingly.” Too willingly, if truth be told, Bear had made the decision that he wanted to date Abbie and until he changed his mind that was how it had to be. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry too.”

     “You shouldn’t be apologizing. I kissed you, remember?”

    “That doesn’t make me guiltless in any of this.”

     “I’m glad that you still plan on sticking around though,” Bear confessed in a subdued tone. “I missed you last time.”

     “You can’t get rid of me that easily,” Phil said with a wicked grin. “We still have those tickets, remember?”

     “Of course,” Bear grinned, although something in his expression looked pained. “How could I ever forget?”

      “Sometimes there are things that you don’t know how they’re going to go until you try them out,” Phil said. “This was one of those times, and it was a mistake.” He choked the word out as though it was toxic, hoping that Bear hadn’t noticed. That would’ve somewhat soiled the effect he was going for. “But it won’t happen again, and it was just a little hiccup in the grand scheme of things.”

      “Just a mistake,” Bear repeated almost inaudibly. A dark expression flitted over his features as he met Phil’s eyes with a noticeably forced smile. “Thank you.”

      “For what?”

      “Not freaking out. Being understanding about everything. Whatever.”

      “What else are friends for?” Phil asked, feeling as though all the air had gone out of the room until he couldn’t breathe. There seemed to something constricting his heart, but hard as he tried he couldn’t get rid of it.

       “Heh. Yeah, what else?” Bear laughed weakly.

      Phil stifled a groan, forcing out a pathetic laugh of his own. He was so unbelievably fucked. “Yeah,” he agreed quietly.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

     Phil hated shopping. Granted, he hated anything that involved going out in public and interacting with other people, but there was something about the lights and overbearingly loud music that made shopping a torture in its own right. As a consequence of this his wardrobe seemed to mainly consist of the same three pairs of pants, t-shirts, plaid, and the odd hoodie, none of which struck him as being particularly appropriate for a date.

      Not the he cared that much about the date, but it would’ve been nice to at least pretend that he was making some kind of an effort.

     Phil had finally settled on a pair of jeans with a plaid shirt, figuring that anyone who had an issue with something as simple as his clothes wasn’t someone he wanted to be going out with anyway.

     But now, sitting across from Dan who was wearing a collared shirt and a pair of chinos, he couldn’t help but feel slightly underdressed.

     “Have you graduated from university yet?” Phil asked politely.

     “Last year,” Dan said. He played with his napkin as he met Phil’s eyes with a slight smile. “Thank you for agreeing to come with me.”

     “Thank you for asking me,” Phil answered in kind. “I haven’t been on a proper date in a long time.” He resisted the urge to cringe as soon as the words had left his lips. All his statement had served to do was communicate that he was a socially awkward fully grown man without much of a life to speak of–which to be fair was fairly accurate although not the kind of impression he wanted to give on a first date.

      “Me neither,” Dan said, surprising Phil with his admission. “Thank you for agreeing to come.”

     “You’ve already said that,” Phil said with a small smile.

    Dan blushed, dropping his eyes sheepishly to the table. “I guess I did, didn’t I? My bad. I guess it’s just that I can’t help but feel tongue tied when I’m around you.”

     Phil couldn’t help but scoff at Dan’s next statement. Who the hell could ever feel tongue tied around him? Even a pink butterfly stuck on a marshmallow probably wouldn’t find him intimidating in the slightest. He was many things, but intimidating wasn’t one of them. “Really?” he asked dubiously.

     “Really,” Dan said with another quiet smile. “I never know quite what the right thing to say around you is. I don’t want to sound uneducated, but at the same time I don’t want to sound too pretentious either.”

    “Don’t worry about what I think,” Phil said. “Sound however you normally would, I promise I won’t bite.”

     “I can’t help it,” Dan shrugged helplessly. “I like you Phil, and I can’t help but care what you think.”

    “I like you too,” Phil said not entirely untruthfully. And it was true–he _did_ like Dan, he just wasn’t sure in what way yet. He was at least making an effort though, which he supposed was a good thing. There was also the added fact that he had said Phil’s words. Phil knew it was stupid but he felt a sense of security around Dan regardless how false it might be, because he was the one person who had managed to say the words but evade the fate.

    “I don’t mean to pry,” Dan began in the overly polite tone of someone who was prying without any qualms. “–But have you found your soulmate yet?”

    Phil stiffened. “No,” he said shortly. He didn’t even know why he had bothered answering, even with Bear it had taken a considerable amount of coaxing before he had given in. “Have you?”

    “Not yet,” the corner of Dan’s lips curled up. “Do you want to know what my words are?”

    Phil was temporarily floored. Sharing words was something that even he, Daisy, and Liam hadn’t done. Regardless of what they were, the words were something personal that identified your soulmate from the rest of the world. “If you want to show me,” he said finally. As Dan rolled up his sleeves, Phil sent a silent prayer to whomever might be listening that Dan wasn’t expecting that Phil was going to show him his words next.

     Dan leaned forwards expectantly, holding out his arm. Phil gently grabbed Dan’s wrist, craning his neck as he strained to read the writing.

_I love you._

     “Those are good words to have,” Phil said before thinking it through.

     Dan didn’t seem fazed. “I know,” he said simply. “I’m lucky.” Phil suddenly became painfully aware of how close the two of them were–a couple more centimeters between them at most. Dan’s skin felt warm against his, and the eyes that were staring directly back at Phil were brown and warm and familiar. He didn’t make any move to pull away though, and Dan didn’t either.

     “How do you feel about kissing on the first date?” Dan asked, sounding slightly breathless as he laughed.

     “What would your parents think?” Phil asked, hearing the same nervous laughter in his voice as he spoke.

      “That’s one of the benefits of being a full-fledged adult,” Dan said with a mischievous smile. His voice lowered to nearly a whisper as he continued speaking. “There’s no one to tell you no.”

     “Wait for the second date at least,” Phil said, playing along and pretending to look aghast. “Where are your manners?”

     Dan shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a hopeless romantic on occasion.”

    “I can tell,” Phil said. Dan pulled his arm away, Phil immediately missing the warmth. “I do have standards you know,” he said with a smile. “Never before the second date.”

    “I’ll await with bated breath,” Dan said with a completely straight face.

     “I never asked, what do you do for a career?” Phil asked, changing the subject.

     “I’m a writer,” Dan said. “Although you probably figured that out what with my ramblings about words and letters,” he added with a wry smile

     “Novels or?…”

     “A couple,” Dan shrugged. “Occasionally an article or two with a newspaper or magazine. I’m not famous exactly, but it’s enough to get by.”

     “What have you written?” Phil asked. “I’d love to read them.”

     “Trust me, you don’t,” Dan shook his head adamantly.

    “Why not?”

    “I find that I’m hardly ever satisfied with what I’ve written,” Dan said reflectively. Everything about him from his words to his actions seemed to be reflective in some way or another and the way he spoke was oddly formal and somewhat stiff, punctuated with long words and phrases. “It seems to be a syndrome that unfortunately I and many others who also write are afflicted with.”

     “Which is why I’m not a writer,” Phil smiled. “I have a pretty short attention span.”

     “The life isn’t for everyone,” Dan said with dignity as he drew himself up. He dropped Phil a small wink as he relaxed in his seat again.

      “Everyone would be a writer if it was,” Phil said, finding himself grinning despite himself. “Personally I’m not cut out for it. That’s why I catalog the books instead of writing them.”

     “Hey,” Dan said fairly. “Without bookstores and libraries the system would die. We need all equations for everything to blossom to its fullest potential.”

     “So you’re a writer,” Phil repeated. “Anything else?”

     “You should also know that I’m a soppy romantic,” Dan said. “That is–if this is something we’re going to try again in the future.”

      “When you say romantic do you mean flowers?”

     “Oh yes. Roses, chocolate, poems, rocks at your window, the whole nine yards,” Dan said seriously.

     “You might find that I’m not as easy to win over as you think,” Phil said, raising an eyebrow. Flirting was somewhat foreign to him, but there was something nice about having someone flirt with him and responding in kind.

      “I’ve always liked a challenge,” Dan said, smirking. “I’m not one to shy away.”

      “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

      “So does that mean you’ll go another date with me?” Dan asked.

      Phil hid his smile. “If you play your cards right, I might be persuaded.”

…

      Rainwater was pouring off of rooftops and drizzling onto the ground as more rain fell from the sky, only to pool in gutters and on the roads. Rain was hardly an unusual occurrence, and thankfully Phil had always liked the rain.

       “Liam asked me out the other day,” Daisy said brightly. _Game of Thrones_ was playing on the television in front of them, although neither was paying much attention. Phil had already seen the episode, and Daisy had a poor attention span.

        “Did he?” Phil asked, feigning surprise.

        Daisy rolled her eyes, gently punching him in the arm. “Shut up. I know you knew about it–Liam can’t keep a secret to save his life.”

       “Did you say yes?” Phil ventured, trying to hide his smirk.

      “No, I told him that I hated him and never wanted to see him again,” Daisy rolled her eyes. “Of course I said yes.”

       “It’s about time,” Phil complained in mock annoyance. “I’ve heard enough from both of you over the past five years.”

         “I know you always wanted to know exactly what shade Liam’s eyes were,” Daisy laughed.

        “Not really,” Phil said. “Honestly though,” he added once his laughter had dispersed. “I’m glad things worked out for the two of you.”

        “It’s just that after what happened last time I didn’t think–” Daisy trailed off, giving a small smile. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to go all soap opera on you.”

        “Hey, I exist for you to go soap opera on,” Phil said. “Don’t apologize. Anyway, after what happened I think you’re entitled to some ranting. What’s wrong?”

        “I just don’t want to do to Liam what Hayden did to me,” Daisy said quietly.

        “You’re not Hayden,” Phil said firmly. “And you’re a better person than he could ever be. Hayden made his own choices, and you’re going to make yours. Maybe you’re going to mess up sometimes, but that’s the way love works.”

       “Even if I do fuck it all up Liam’s my best friend besides you,” Daisy said. “And I don’t want to lose that.”

       “You two are friends, right?” Daisy nodded. “And you love each other, right?” She nodded again. “Life’s short, and besides I think it would take an earthquake for Liam to not want to be your friend and even then it’s doubtful.”

       “But he hasn’t found his soulmate yet, and I already did except…” Daisy bit her lip. “What happened with Hayden–he was supposed to be my soulmate. The one person who was supposed to be there no matter what couldn’t stand being around me, who’s to say Liam won’t feel the same way?”

     “No one’s to say that he won’t,” Phil said bluntly.

    “Thanks.”

     “But that’s the point, isn’t it?” Phil pressed. “Not knowing. That’s kind of the point of love though, you don’t know anything until you try.”

    “Thank you, Phil,” Daisy said. A hint of her old mischievous air returned as she slid him a wry grin. “For someone who hasn’t been in a serious relationship you give pretty good advice. Which reminds me–is there anything new with you?” she asked innocently, the implied meaning clear.

    “Work’s about as interesting as ever,” Phil said, dodging the question purely to annoy her.

     She rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean.”  

     “I went on a date yesterday,” Phil said, caving in. It was only a matter of time before Daisy found out, and he figured it was better she heard it from him than from someone else.

      Her eyes lit up. “Who was it?”

      “His name’s Dan,” Phil said, bracing himself.

      Daisy’s eyes widened, and she glanced at his wrist. “Is he…”

      “No,” he said. “But I think we’re going out again in a couple of days.”

      Daisy grinned. “That’s fantastic Phil, I’m happy for you.” She wrapped an arm across his shoulders. “I’d love to meet him someday.”

      “Who knows? Maybe you will.”

      “Is he the one from the bookstore?”

      Phil tensed. “No,” he said quickly. Any mention of Bear was enough to set him on edge. “But we did meet in the bookstore funnily enough. He’s an author.”

       “Brainy’s the new sexy,” Daisy said in her best impression of Irene Adler. She maintained a straight face for as long as she could, dropping a seductive wink in Phil’s direction.

      Phil snorted, laughing as he shook his head. “Stop it. I don’t even know if anything’s going to happen.”

       “Do you want it to?”

       Phil paused for a moment, hesitating before speaking again. “Maybe,” he said finally. He did like Dan, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t seem to ignore that Dan’s eyes weren’t quite as full of life as Bear’s were.

…

      Business had sped up considerably the past couple of days, for once working in Phil’s favor and providing him with enough work to take his mind off of everything else. Bear hadn’t stopped by for a couple of days, and regardless of how hard Phil tried to bury himself in his job he couldn’t help but notice–or look up at every chime of the bell and hope that he was going to spy Bear ducking underneath the door frame. And he hated himself for it, because even though he knew that he had done the right thing he still missed Bear like hell.

      Bear finally entered _Ink and Quill_ again Tuesday afternoon. A lull in customers had left Phil with a blissful couple of minutes to himself no matter how temporary. As the familiar brown fringe entered his line of sight, it was clear that the break was over.

      “Hey,” Bear said, coming to a halt in front of Phil’s desk. “How’re you doing?” He sounded oddly formal as he fiddled with his fringe.

      “I’m doing well. Yourself?” Phil heard the same formal words come out of his own mouth, and he resisted the urge to cringe. If this was the way their friendship was going to be for the rest of time he almost would rather not have it at all.

       “Fine,” Bear shrugged. “Lot of coursework lately, and I haven’t had a lot of time to visit London. I’ve missed it,” he added wistfully.

      “I’ve missed…” Phil let his words trail off unfinished as he coughed in an attempt to hide his words.

    “What have you missed?” Bear asked.

    “Nothing,” Phil mumbled.

    “Anything exciting happen lately?” Bear almost seemed as though he was wanted some kind of answer out of Phil–like he _expected_ it, although Phil wasn’t sure what it was.

    “Not really,” Phil said offhandedly. “Work, sleeping, the usual exciting stuff.”

    “Abbie said that you went on a date with a friend of hers the other day,” Bear said, apparently not in the mood for beating about the bush on the matter.

     “Yeah,” Phil said, suddenly feeling as though discussing Dan with Bear wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have. Which was completely ridiculous. He shouldn’t be feeling awkward about anything in the slightest. “Do you know him?”  
     “Not very well,” Bear said stiffly. His words had reverted to sounding formal and detached, an odd expression lingering behind his eyes. “What did you think?”

      “He seems nice enough,” Phil shrugged. “Why?”

      “Just curious,” Bear muttered. “So are you a thing now or?”

      “I don’t know,” Phil said uncomfortably, shifting his weight in his chair. “Given time, I think there might be a chance.”

        “What does he even do for a job anyway?” Bear scowled. “He’s a writer or something, isn’t he?”

        There was no mistaking the blatant disdain in Bear’s tone, although Phil couldn’t figure out why for the life of him. “He’s a writer,” he said slowly, frowning. “Is there something wrong?”  
        “That’s not a job that pays very well,” Bear remarked.

        Irritation began to replace some of the confusion as Phil straightened in his chair. “I don’t know what your problem is right now but–”

       “According to you there isn’t a problem, is there?” Bear asked bitterly.

       “What’s that supposed to mean? What are you talking about?”

       “I’d better go,” Bear said flatly. “I don’t have a lot of time anyway, I just wanted to stop by and say hello.”

       “I’m glad that you did,” Phil said, thrown at Bear’s attitude. Nothing about Dan or Bear’s personalities seemed like they were anything that would clash enough for Bear to sound so bitter, and it wasn’t like he and Bear had ever been much of anything anyway.

      “You sure about that?” Bear asked, raising an eyebrow.

      “You’re not making any sense,” Phil said in exasperation, the irritation beginning to boil over. “What are you talking about? Bear?” The slam of the door was the only response.

…

     Phil received the text at approximately seven in the evening. An episode of _Attack on Titan_ was running on the television as he sat on the sofa with his laptop open and Tumblr running. A half eaten box of chinese takeout sat on the coffee table beside him, a glass of Ribena all but empty. Most evenings found Phil alone in his flat on the internet–not that he minded exactly. Phil valued his solitude to a certain extent.

       While Bear had been in the hospital, Phil had shown him his Tumblr. He wasn’t sure how it had happened, but after posting a couple of seemingly irrelevant anecdotes about various strangers he’d met in Tesco he’d had more followers than he’d known what to do with.

      His inbox was filled with people asking where he’d been, and Phil nestled down further into the cushions as he began to plow through the asks. A notification popped up and he clicked on it. Bear had tagged him in a one of those text posts with a pretentious quote on it.

      “ _Don’t forget who was there for you when no one else was_ ,” Phil read aloud, frowning slightly. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Nothing about any of this made any sense, and it was beginning to drive him crazy. His phone lit up from beside him, and he shut the lid of his laptop, grabbing it and pressing answer.

       “Hello?”

       “Is this Phil?”

       “Is this Dan?”

       “You guessed correctly.” Phil couldn’t see Dan, but he could hear the smile in his words. “I considered throwing rocks at your window, but I thought you might appreciate a phone call instead.”

       “Only one lawsuit,” Phil said. “What have you been up to lately?”

      “Writing. My fingers are in very real danger of falling off.”

      “It’s a hard life,” Phil said not entirely unsympathetically.

       “That it is,” Dan agreed. “I’ve also been missing you.”

       “Have you?” Phil asked, feeling himself beginning to smile. He had never thought of himself as being a ‘sappy romantic’ to borrow Dan’s term, but there was something about Dan and his elaborate declarations that always made Phil smile despite himself. “We’ve only been on one date too.”

       “That’s something I intend to remedy,” Dan said. “Would you be interested in going on another date with me tomorrow night?” he asked. “You can choose the restaurant. Please do actually–I haven’t been here long enough to know what’s good and what isn’t.”

       “Fair enough,” Phil agreed. “I’ll think about it and let you know.”

      “Am I robbing you of any Friday night plans?”

      “Just the internet,” Phil said in mock regret. “I guess I’ll have to cancel.”

       “I’m glad that I at least take priority over the internet,” Dan said. “It’s a great honor.”

      “Always,” Phil said.

…

      The park was colder than he would’ve thought, but thankfully Phil had had enough foresight to wear a coat. His hands were shoved in his pockets as he strolled down the path, listening to the laughter and chatter as though it was all coming from somewhere else entirely. It had been a goal of his for longer than he cared to remember to get fit and exercise more, yet every year so far none of that had actually happened.

       Phil was happy in his flat, but sometimes the same routine day after day was enough to drive him insane. The park provided a nice escape, and it was a good place to go when he wanted to be alone with his thoughts and mull things over in a change of scenery. As his mum had always said, new places bred new thoughts.

      He stopped in front of a bench, sitting down and crossing his legs. Life continued as normal around him, and in the face of it all Phil couldn’t help but wonder if he was making a mistake agreeing on a second date. The first time Dan had asked, Phil had froze and replied with vague and careful maybe. After he and Bear had had their conversation, Phil had called Dan and told him yes. He needed to move on eventually, and at least Dan was safe from the threat of Phil’s words.

      And yeah, Dan was intriguing and he made Phil laugh, but even given all of that Phil wasn’t sure if that was going to be enough to last. Laughter could mask almost any wound, but that didn’t mean it had healed.

…

     Phil sat across from Dan, who was wearing yet another collared shirt and chinos.

     “Before you ask,” Dan began. “I want you to know that I do own other clothes. These are simply the clothes that I usually wear on a date.”

      “T-shirts and jeans are essentially my entire wardrobe,” Phil said. “I have a suit for funerals, but I didn’t think that was exactly appropriate.”

      Dan laughed. “I would imagine not,” he said. “Also before you ask, I’m not planning on murdering you anytime soon so don’t worry about that.”

      “Thank god,” Phil said sarcastically. “I was worried there for a moment.”

      “Are your fears assuaged?”

      “Most definitely. Are you a man of your word, though?”

       “But of course,” Dan said. “I’m nothing but an absolute gentleman.” He reached out, gently grabbing one of Phil’s hands. He lifted it, pressing it to his lips and not breaking eye contact. Phil felt his pulse begin to race in his ears as he stared back at Dan, heart pounding. “See?” he whispered against Phil’s hand.

       “An absolute gentleman,” Phil repeated, unable to do much else as Dan kept hold of his hand. “I can tell.”

        “I would bow, but I would probably knock the table over if I tried,” Dan said apologetically. “So I’ll refrain for now. You’ll just have to imagine it I’m afraid.”

       “I’m not a damsel in distress though,” Phil said. “I think I’m more the knight in shining armor actually.”

      “I’ll be the damsel in distress,” Dan said smoothly. “I’d be happy to be saved by you anytime you feel up to it.”

     “I think I’d be a pretty poor knight actually,”  Phil reflected. “I’m unbelievably clumsy. I’d probably impale myself on my own sword and save the dragon the trouble of finishing me off.” He was gratified with a quiet laugh from Dan, although Phil was being completely serious.

      “With a bit of proper training I could see you becoming a knight in no time,” Dan said. “Everyone needs a bit of practice before they can become an expert at something. Similar to love. I suppose that’s why people go on dates–so they can practice love.”

       “I’m not sure that love is something that you should have to practice at,” Phil said thoughtfully. “The relationship, yes, but the actual feeling of love shouldn’t need practice because it’s something that should already be there.”

      Dan smiled graciously, although he looked a little ticked off as he amended his statement. “Alright, let me rephrase. I suppose that’s why people go on dates–so they can practice a relationship with all its highs and lows.”

      “Do you remember what I said about not kissing on the first date?” Phil ventured. Dan still hadn’t let go of his hand, although he would be lying if he said that it didn’t feel warm and familiar.

      “I do,” Dan acknowledged. “It would be hard to forget given the circumstances.”

      “Which are?”

      “That I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time,” Dan said unashamedly. Phil both admired and envied his confidence.

      “I didn’t say anything about the second date.”

      “That’s also true.”  
      “What would you say if I told you that I don’t have anything against kissing on the second date?” Phil asked cautiously. Part of him was screaming to push Dan away and tell him to fuck off–that Phil didn’t know what he was doing here and that he was still in love with Bear. The other part noticed the warmth with which Dan gripped his hand and liked the way he made him laugh–that wanted nothing more than to have Dan kiss him.

       “If that were true I might be tempted,” Dan said just as cautiously.

       “What if it was true?”

       Dan gave a wry smile. “This is an awful lot of hypothetical questions and not a lot of concrete, isn’t it?”

       Phil shrugged, smirking lightly. “If you want concrete, I don’t mind. My policy only extended to the first date,” he said.

       Dan stared at him in silence for a moment before he released Phil’s hand. He gently cupped Phil’s chin in his hand, tilting it upwards slightly as he began to lean forwards. Feeling his breath hitch, Phil followed suit. His eyes fluttered shut as he felt Dan’s lips press to his. He felt Dan smile against his lips, the two taking breaths for air before their lips brushed again. The kisses were light and gentle, and aside from Bear it was the first time Phil had been kissed in a long time.

     Something felt wrong though, and he couldn’t figure out what it was. The kiss wasn’t _bad_ per say, but for lack of better description it didn’t feel _right_ either.

      Dan’s lips didn’t fit with Phil’s the way Bear’s had, and with Dan there was none of the spark and desperation that Phil had felt with Bear. Dan’s kisses were hesitant and gentle, while Bear’s had been deliberate and charged with electricity if somewhat forceful. Truth be told, nothing had felt right since things had ended with Bear.

    Immediately Phil chided himself for thinking of Bear in that way, especially while in the middle of a kiss with someone else.

     Dan pulled away, smiling. There was an unmistakably happy glow in his smile as he met Phil’s eyes. Phil gave a smile in return, his gaze drifting somewhere over Dan’s shoulder as the man began to speak in hushed tones. He froze, feeling the earth drop out from underneath of his feet.

       As if conquered by his thoughts, Bear was standing by a table a couple of meters away looking utterly shellshocked. A glass of water lay shattered on the floor as though he had dropped it. The waitress began to fuss over him, but Bear seemed oblivious to all of it. He locked eyes with Phil, the dark and indescribable emotion from before back in his eyes.

       Panic began to rise in Phil, although for what reason he didn’t know. Bear had Abbie, and that was supposed to be the way he wanted it. He forced himself to breathe as neither he or Bear broke eye contact. Bear looked incredibly sad and incredibly small in that moment, and even though he had thought he was done with Bear Phil felt his heart break again. Because Dan wasn’t Bear and he never could be and everything about their kiss had felt wrong and empty and superficial, while every moment spent with Bear had made Phil feel more alive than he had ever remembered feeling before. Because there was a part of Phil that would always be in love with Bear in some way, regardless of how hard he tried to move on.

      “Phil?” Dan asked softly. “Is there something wrong?”

     His voice sounded as if it came from somewhere else as Phil raised his voice, calling across the room. “Bear!”

     “Who?” Dan’s brow furrowed, and Phil’s attention returned to him briefly.

     “Bear,” Phil repeated, hearing his voice shake. “He’s–” Phil glanced up again, eyes darting back to Bear’s table. “Nothing,” he muttered, willing himself to hold it together as he forced the smile back in place.

      Bear was gone, the only sign that he’d ever been there the glass still laying in pieces on the ground.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

       For the next couple of days, Phil hadn’t been cognizant of much else aside from the fact that he had actually and properly fucked up. After Bear had disappeared, Phil had wanted nothing more than to leave and hide in his flat. That wouldn’t have been entirely fair to Dan, though, so he forced himself to stay seated with a stretched smile on his face for the remainder of the evening.

     He hadn’t seen Bear since, and while part of Phil was convinced that that was probably a good thing, the other part not so much.

      Surprisingly, though, it was Abbie that first visited _Ink and Quill_ again, not Bear.

      “Hey,” Phil slid the keyboard out of the way, glancing up and meeting Abbie’s gaze. “What’s up?”

      Abbie shrugged. “Nothing really,” she said. “I wanted to ask you something.”

      “What?”

       “I was talking to Dan the other day,” she said casually. “He said that you two had already been on a couple of dates and that he really like you.”

       Phil felt himself flush despite himself. “I like him too,” he admitted quietly.

      “I was thinking that if you were interested maybe you could come on a date with Bear and me tonight,” Abbie said tentatively. “I’m sorry that it’s kind of short notice, but Dan said that he could pick you up if you were interested.”

       Phil hesitated, biting his lip. “Are you sure we wouldn’t be intruding on anything?” he asked. There was definitely a certain appeal in the thought of seeing Bear again, regardless of what terms they were on, and he had enjoyed Dan’s company in some way even if he didn’t know exactly in what way himself.

        “Would I have invited you along if I thought you were?” Abbie asked with a smile. “Neither of us mind.”

        Phil took the ‘us’ to mean she and Bear, and contrary to what Abbie might think, Phil had a feeling that Bear would very much mind. In the end, that was what made the decision. “Sure,” he said, almost regretting the choice as soon as he had made up his mind. “Sounds like fun.”

        Abbie nodded, the smile not leaving her face. Phil couldn’t help but wonder where she got her seemingly endless supply of smiles from. “Dress nicely,” she added.

       The alarm bells went off in Phil’s head. “Nicely?” he repeated dubiously. Phil had owned two suits during his life, and they were both because of funerals.

       “It’s a nicer restaurant,” Abbie clarified. She must have picked up on the frantic look on his face. “Just wear a suit or something that’s somewhat dress up. It’s really not a big deal.”

        “Right,” Phil agreed, frantically doing a mental scour of his wardrobe for anything that could remotely be considered _dressed up._ Dressing up was hardly his forte. “Okay, I guess I’ll see you then?”

       “Thanks for agreeing to come,” Abbie said, straightening with a final parting smile.

       “Thank you for inviting me,” Phil replied in kind. “It was nice of you to think of me,” he said truthfully. The door swung shut gently behind Abbie as she left, leaving Phil alone to wonder what the hell constituted a _nice_ outfit.

 

…

 

       Liam sat cross legged on Phil’s bed, watching as Daisy stood in front of Phil’s closet, throwing clothes right and left.

       “What makes you think I know anything about fashion?” Daisy asked as she dumped a pair of sneakers onto Phil’s floor.

        “You’re a girl?” Phil confessed sheepishly.

        “You like guys,” Daisy pointed out, raising her eyebrows. “You don’t know anything about fashion though.”

      “And girls,” Phil added. “Maybe that’s what counters an otherwise impeccable sense of style.”

        “The day you develop impeccable style is the day I fuck Jessica Smith,” Liam said from his perch on the bed.

        “That’ll also be the day you lose your girlfriend,” Daisy retorted, kicking Phil’s jeans out of the way. “Don’t you have a tux or something?” she asked in exasperation.

        “Not really.”

       “Not really?”

       Phil sighed, groaning. “It’s my funeral suit. I hate it though, it’s stiff and uncomfortable and—“ he broke off, gritting his teeth. “I’m wearing the suit, aren’t I?” he asked in resignation.

       “You’re wearing the suit,” Daisy confirmed. “Where is it?”

       Without answering, Phil retreated to the guest room, opening the closet doors and sorting through the various hangers until he found one in the back covered in plastic. He pulled it out and yanked the plastic off, sending it fluttering to the floor. The last time he had worn a suit was to his grandmother’s wedding five years ago, and he wasn’t even sure if the goddamn thing still fit him or not.

        If he was being completely honest with himself, there was a small part of Phil that wanted to look somewhat presentable for Bear—which was wrong on more levels than he could even begin to comprehend. Dan was the one he was in a relationship with, and if that wasn’t enough to make him happy than clearly he needed to sort out his priorities.

        Figuring that Daisy was going to make him try it on anyway, Phil shucked off his clothes and pulled the suit on, making a face as he did up the tie. He shoved his feet ungracefully into the shoes, crossing the hall to his bedroom.

        “Good enough?” he asked sarcastically, spinning in an exaggerated circle like a runway model.

        “You look nice,” Daisy said, sounding surprised.

       “Thanks,” Phil rolled his eyes, laughing. “I have my moments, you know.”

        Daisy’s eyes widened, and she backtracked. “I just meant that I wasn’t sure we were going to be able to pull anything together, but we did and—“

       “Relax Daisy,” Phil said, throwing himself on the bed beside Liam. “I’m just giving you a hard time.”

       “You’re going to wrinkle your suit if you lay on the bed like that,” Daisy chided.

      Phil rolled his eyes. “So what?” he asked, sitting up despite his words.

     “You have a date,” Daisy said, sitting heavily on the bed beside him. “Don’t you care at least a little how you look?”

      He pretended to think for a moment. “Not really,” he said, although they both knew it was a lie. Phil wasn’t vain, but he did have a certain level of decency and self-respect.

       “If this double date goes well, I’ll have to drag you along on a date with me and Daisy,” Liam said.

       Daisy perked up. “I’d love to meet Dan at some point! He sounds lovely.”

      “Maybe,” Phil muttered, straightening. “Thanks for your help,” he added, sliding off the bed and loosening his tie. He headed for the guest room, hanging the suit back on the hanger and wrapping it back in the plastic.

 

…

 

     Brown eyes rivaled brown as Phil studiously avoided the gazes of both. He stared down at his spaghetti, wondering how something so expensive could be so skimpy. Good businesses depended on profit, but there was a difference between making a profit and scamming your customers.

       “This is awkward as fuck,” Bear announced bluntly. Abbie turned to look at him sharply. “What?” he asked defensively. She lowered her voice, leaning in closer with a frown as Phil began to play with his fork.

     “You look ravishing, by the way,” Dan said quietly in Phil’s ear. He stifled a shiver, leaning back and glancing up at the brown haired man.

     “You do too,” Phil replied in kind.

      “I kind of want to kiss you right now,” Dan admitted guiltily, dropping Phil a wink that communicated that while he might be feeling several things right now guilt wasn’t one of them.

      “I’m kind of not stopping you,” Phil said just as quietly. He remained still in his chair as Dan leaned in, closing his eyes as his lips met Dan’s. The kiss was light, Dan’s lips ghosting Phil’s as he gently pulled away, smiling.

       “There are several other things I kind of want to do to you that probably aren’t appropriate for the general public,” Dan said in a low voice.

        Phil flushed, biting his lip. “What kind of things might that be?” he asked, playing along. “I do have standards, remember my rule about not kissing on the first date?”

     “Your standards,” Dan laughed softly. “Rest assured, I remember those. It’s nothing a gentleman wouldn’t approve of.”

     “Really?”

      Dan rested two fingers on the base of Phil’s chin, lifting it slightly until their eyes were locked. “For one thing, I would kiss your freckles,” he said. His thumb drifted away from Phil’s chin to brush against the lone blemishes on Phil’s otherwise clear skin. “Each and every one of them—and then I would do it again. I would kiss your forehead and work my way down until I reached your lips.” Phil shivered despite himself, Dan’s words sending a not entirely unpleasant chill throughout him as he listened.

     “If you could save your oral sex for the bedroom it would really help my appetite,” Abbie interjected with a wry smile. “While I’m glad that you two seemed to have hit it off so quickly, this is a public facility.”

      “I wasn’t planning on anything that a gentleman wouldn’t do,” Dan said smoothly. “Isn’t that right Phil?”

      “Because you’re nothing but a gentleman are you?” Bear interrupted, glaring at Dan with thinly veiled disdain.

      “Under our masks of lies and deceit can any of claim to be gentlemen with pure intentions in the end?” Dan asked mildly.

      Bear scowled. “While you might think that the pretentious bullshit makes you sound professional and like an author, all it does it make you sound like an arrogant twat.”

       “Relax,” Phil said before the two could continue. “That’s the way that he speaks, you already know that.”

       Bear turned his glower on Phil next, and he fought the urge to cringe. Bear looked in danger of committing murder, and right now Phil was in the line of fire. “Fuck off when it comes to things that don’t affect you,” he said, sounding deadly calm as he stared levelly at Phil. Without hesitation, he slid his arm around Abbie’s waist. He leaned down and firmly pressed his lips to hers.

       Phil stiffened, bile rising in his throat as he tried to turn his attention to Dan and instinctively searching for his hand. Bear wasn’t his problem. He’d chosen Abbie. Fuck, it was what he _wanted._ Phil hadn’t been anything more than convenient and he never would be. Besides, he had Dan now, and Bear wasn’t anything more than a mistake.

      If all that were true though, then why did he feel so fucking _jealous_ all of the time?

      Incorrectly interpreting Phil’s action as him needing some kind of reassurance, Dan linked his fingers with Phil’s. “Don’t worry about it,” he said in what he probably thought was a comforting tone of voice. “He’ll get over it soon enough.”

       Phil shot Dan an incredulous look. “What are you talking about?”

       “You’ll have your best friend back,” Dan repeated obviously. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure of it.”

       Phil blinked. “Thank you I guess,” he said, frowning. “That wasn’t something I was concerned about, though. We’ve been through a shitload of stuff together for something like that to tear us apart,” he added more to convince himself than Dan.

       “That’s fantastic,” Dan said, looking less than thrilled. His thumb began drawing lazy circles on Phil’s palm as he straightened his posture.

        “What’s that supposed to mean?” Phil asked more sharply than he’d intended.

       “What’s what supposed to mean?” Dan asked irritably.

       “’That’s fantastic,’” Phil mimicked.

        “I’m glad that you have friends you can rely on,” Dan answered coldly. His thumb ceased in its circles.

       “Really? Because it didn’t sound like it to me.” Phil was aware that he was being difficult, but it was hard to think straight with Bear and Abbie going at it from across the table. They wanted to joke about he and Dan getting a room, but the two of them put up fair cause for a room of their own.

       “Phil,” Dan released a long breath through his teeth. “Are you trying to start something?”

       “No!” Phil denied hotly, although truthfully he wasn’t sure of much of anything at this point. “I just want to know why you two don’t seem to get along.”

      “Not everyone can get along with everyone,” Dan said, seemingly at the end of his tether. “That’s the way the world works, and if it didn’t there would be a lack of–”

      “I _know_ ,” Phil snapped, casting another glance at Bear and Abbie. As he watched, Bear’s hand rested on her hip, slowly beginning to inch down her leg. Feeling in actual danger of throwing up what little he’d eaten, Phil pushed his chair away and threw his napkin on the table.

      “I’m so sorry,” he said to Dan, looking anywhere but at Bear and Abbie. “I don’t know what happened all of the sudden but I’m not feeling well. I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”

       Looking slightly mollified, Dan nodded. “I hope you feel better soon.”

      “Thanks,” Phil mumbled, walking as quickly as he could towards the nearest exit—two double doors off to the side.

      This particular restaurant had a balcony off of the third floor, overlooking the road and the rest of London’s traffic. Not exactly the most scenic place they could’ve picked for a balcony in Phil’s opinion, but he supposed given the circumstances that they could’ve done worse. Phil was the only one outside, and as he leaned against the railing he supposed that at least _one_ thing had to go in his favor tonight.

       He closed his eyes, listening to the sounds of London and the sirens pass underneath him. A slight breeze broke the otherwise stilted and surprisingly cool air. He crossed his arms, tapping his fingers idly against his arm as he tried to force his thoughts together enough to function.

      Phil groaned, uncrossing his arms and running his fingers through his hair moodily. The only conclusion that he could come to was that there was something wrong with him. Everything was wrong about the situation, but regardless of what Phil did he couldn’t seem to fix it. Maybe the issue was that he didn’t _want_ to fix it.

      And that, more than anything was the truly fucked up part of it all.

      “Hey.”

      Phil stared down at the street as Bear joined him silently, copying his posture. The two were quiet for a moment, the rest of the world continuing without them.

      “You look nice,” Bear offered tentatively.

      “Thanks,” Phil muttered. Then, just as tentatively– “You do too.”

      “It’s cold,” Bear commented distastefully, wrinkling his nose in mock displeasure.

      “Nice statement of the obvious.”

     “Do you remember that time when we were walking back from Starbucks and you spilt your drink all over that girl but it was so cold that it froze?” Bear laughed, both the sight and sound somehow making something relax in Phil that he wasn’t previously aware was taut.

      “It seems funny in the retelling, but at the time it was very traumatizing,” Phil said seriously. “She looked like she wanted to murder me.”

       “She was on her way to a business meeting,” Bear said. “In her defense.”

      “So you’re saying that means it would’ve been acceptable to murder me?” Phil asked.

     “Yes?” Bear ducked, still laughing as Phil swatted him.

      “Nice to know you’d miss me if I died.”

     “Obviously I’d miss you if you died,” Bear said, looking slightly offended. “What kind of shitty friend do you peg me as?”

       “In that case,” Phil sighed, trying to look as though he was being put upon. “I guess I’d miss you too if you died.”

       “Always reassuring,” Bear said with a grin, turning and watching the street again as he continued speaking. “At least someone’ll make sure they spell my name right in the obituary.”

      “Which I still don’t know,” Phil said under his breath. By this point Bear’s identity, while still unknown, no longer seemed as threatening. He supposed that that was one of the benefits of making it to a place where you generally just didn’t give a fuck.

      “Do you really want to?” Bear asked. “I can tell you if you want. It seems kind of stupid that we’ve waited this long, actually.”

       Phil hesitated before nodding. It wasn’t like things could get anymore screwed up then they already were, and the part of him that had been curious ever since meeting Bear resurfaced. “If you want to.” Bear opened his mouth.

      “Hey, are you two done? The food’s here.”

      Phil spun around to see Dan standing in the door frame. “Sure,” he said, feeling slightly disappointed as he ducked through.

      “I’ll tell you some other time,” Bear said as he followed Phil. “Never fear,” he added slightly dramatically.

       “I’ll await the day with baited breath,” Phil said dryly. Then, ignoring Dan’s curious look, he sat down to eat.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

     Phil walked into Starbucks the next day to find Bear sitting at one of the booths with two drinks sitting on the table in front of him. He caught Phil’s eye, waving him over.

     “Are you here with Abbie?” Phil asked, sitting in the unoccupied seat.

     “I thought you’d stop by at some point,” Bear shrugged, sliding one of the cups across the table to Phil with a slight smile. “I know your schedule pretty well by this point.”

      “Easy there Edward Cullen.”

      “Excuse me?”

       “You’re glittering,” Phil teased, crossing his legs as he popped the lid off of his drink.

      “I’ll make your mum glitter,” Bear retorted in mock anger. “You follow the same routine every day. It doesn’t exactly take a brain surgeon to figure it out.”

      “Children should be seen and not heard,” Phil said, blowing steam off of the top of his drink and watching as it dissipated into the air.

       “That whopping four year age gap is really insurmountable isn’t it?” Bear asked dryly. “We’re both legal adults.”

      “I have a job though,” Phil countered. “Although I still don’t have a social life. And I still don’t know how to do trigonometry.”

       “How often do you really even need that shit once you graduate anyway?” Bear asked. “Because I never use it except to pass tests. Maybe if I was going to be an architect or something that required math I would actually need to know how to solve for the value of x, but I doubt as a lawyer my client is going to tell me that the only way to win the case is to solve an equation using the quadratic formula.”

      “You never know,” Phil said fairly. “Elle Woods won the case because she knew how perms worked.”

      Bear laughed. “Really? You’re bringing _Legally Blonde_ into this?”

    “A conversation about law wouldn’t be complete without it.”

     “Did anyone ever tell you that you’re a massive nerd?”

     “Takes one to know one,” Phil quipped in response. It was nice being with Bear without Abbie and Dan and everything else that made being with him complicated. The two had managed to slide into their old banter without much difficulty, and for the first time in a while it seemed as though maybe things were finally starting to settle down.

       “I’m not exactly in a position to deny that,” Bear acknowledged. “Our friendship was literally founded on books.”

       “And anime.”

       “That too.”

       “Friendships have to start somehow,” Phil said. “I’m just glad that you picked _Ink and Quill_ out of all the other possible options.” He took a sip from his coffee, briefly thinking of ordering a scone to go with it. It hadn’t been that long ago since he’d eaten breakfast, but Phil could always manage to find room for food.

  “I thought you were cute,” Bear said bluntly.

    Phil almost spit out his drink. “Come again?” he sputtered.

    Bear ducked his head. “You’re never going to let me live that one down, are you?” he asked.

    “Nope,” Phil said cheerfully, recovering. “Bit of a mistake on your part to tell me,” he added. “For what it’s worth though, I thought you were cute too.”

    “Rest assured I’m not going to let you live that down either,” Bear smirked.

    “Those are the fundamental qualities for maximum friendship,” Phil said. “A friendship built on books and thinking the other is attractive, followed by stalking.”

   “Cat and Bear. What two attractive guys.”

   “Their humility is bursting at the seams too.”

   “I have a question,” Bear announced suddenly.

   “Why am I nervous suddenly?” Phil asked with a slight smile.

   “You should be,” Bear said seriously. “Very nervous.”

   “What is it?”

    Bear hesitated, visibly taking a breath before diving in. “Do you love Dan?”

    For a moment, Phil was floored. “Excuse me?”

    “You heard what I said,” Bear said–almost wearily as he met Phil’s gaze staunchly.

    Part of Phil was tempted to tell him to fuck off and that it wasn’t any of his business, but it was Bear and like it or not he was included in the equation more heavily than either of them might like to think. “No,” he said finally. “I don’t. Not yet at least.” Bear nodded silently. “Do you love Abbie?”

    “No,” Bear answered without hesitation. “Not exactly.”

     The speed of his answer was surprising, and Phil frowned. “You said you were going to break up with her a long time ago,” he said, trying not to sound too accusatory.

    “I can’t,” Bear mumbled, dropping his eyes to stare down into his drink.

    “What’s that supposed to mean?”

    “I do.”

   “You do love her?”

   “Yes. No. I don’t know.” Bear sighed, running a hand through his hair. “None of this is fair to her though, because I’m in love with someone else.”

    “Why can’t you just tell the other person you’re in love with that you want to be with them?” Phil asked, his heart currently performing an odd mix of feeling like Bear had stabbed him in the chest yet also feeling strangely hopeful that maybe the person Bear was talking about was–

    “It’s complicated,” Bear grimaced, cutting off any further thoughts from Phil. “He–they’re happy with who they’re with right now and I’d rather stay friends then not at all.”

    “How do you know they’re happy? Maybe they feel the same way. You’ll never know unless you say something.”

    Bear snorted. “No. I’m not quite a shit enough friend to do something like that. As long as he’s happy I guess I can be too.”

    “He?” Bear gave a noncommittal noise in response. “I have one more question for you, and then I should probably head back to the shop.” Phil leaned forward, resting his weight on his elbows as he met Bear’s gaze squarely. “Are you happy?”

     Bear hesitated, biting his lip. “No. Not really.”

     Phil nodded as if Bear had answered all of his questions–which in a way he had. “I’ll see you later,” he said with a quiet smile, grabbing his cup and leaving without another word.

 

…

 

     A complete collection of all three _The Lord of the Rings_ books were sitting on Phil’s desk when he returned to _Ink and Quill_ the next day. A sticky-note was stuck to the top, immediately identifiable by Bear’s distinct handwriting. After dumping his keys on his desk, Phil gently detached the note and began to read.

     _Once you finish The Hobbit I thought you might like to keep going. This is a present for you–think of it as continuing the tradition of how we became friends. Check the inside of the cover._

      Even though Bear couldn’t see him, Phil rolled his eyes, smiling as he picked up the book and opened it. Bear had written a slightly longer letter in a neater script than any of his notes. As Phil started to read, the smile was stolen from his mouth until it felt like he was drowning in Bear’s words and no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t fucking breathe and something must be wrong with his lungs because none of the air seemed to be reaching them.

       _Hey Cat,_

_If you weren’t able to tell by now, I really like J. R. R. Tolkien. He’s probably my favorite author. We hadn’t done this in a while so I figured might as well keep the tradition alive for old times sake. There’s something that I have to ask you. I proposed to Abbie last night and she said yes. Will you be my best man? Honestly, I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather have or even want. If I’m going to up there the only person I’d ever want to be there with me would be my best friend._

_Thank you,_

_Bear_

He was such a fucking idiot.

 

…

 

    Phil drummed his fingers against the armrest of the sofa, phone pressed to his ear as Bear’s voice drifted out through the speakers.

    “Of course I’ll do it,” Phil jumped in, effectively cutting off Bear’s ramblings about _not wanting to cause any trouble_ and _you really don’t have to if you don’t want to._ “Even if you hadn’t invited me, I was going to find some way in.”

    “Gate crashing? That’s not very respectful.”

    “Not inviting your best friend to your wedding?” Phil said, mimicking Bear’s tones. “That’s not very respectful.”

    “I never claimed to be a gentleman,” Bear defended. “Anyway, Abbie wants me to tell you that we’re supposed to go shopping at some point this week so that our outfits match or some shit like that.”

    “It’s all about color coordination,” Phil nodded, remembering too late that Bear couldn’t see him. “Very important.” There was a brief lull in the conversation while Phil wracked his brains for something else to say. “Are you excited?”

    “To marry the love of my life?” Bear asked dryly. “You bet I am.” Though it was usually Bear’s nature to be sarcastic, there was a fine line between sarcasm and sincerity which to Phil at least it seemed as though he was skating.

    “I’m glad,” Phil said pointedly. “I can tell by your voice.” It was the fact that Bear had proposed the same day he’d told Phil that he didn’t love Abbie without hesitation that bothered him the most. If Bear had been happy yeah, Phil probably still would’ve cared, but at least that would’ve been some reassurance that for Bear things would turn out fine in the end.

     “Are you going to go with Dan?” Bear asked, apparently choosing to ignore Phil’s remark. “It’s suggested that you bring a guest, and he’s invited anyway.”

     “Probably,” Phil shrugged. “I hadn’t really thought about it I guess. Why?”

     “No reason. Are you available Friday to go look at suits?” Bear’s tone was abrupt as he changed the topic.

     “I think so,” Phil said, running through as much of his schedule as he could remember. It wasn’t like he was booked. “You still haven’t told me when the wedding is.”

    “It’s not definite, but we’re thinking sometime next month,” Bear said. This time, Phil was positive that the reluctance in his voice wasn’t purely his imagination.

   “That soon?” he asked before thinking.

   “It’s not going to be a huge thing,” Bear said. “Family, a couple friends. It’s not a big deal.”

   “Not a big–it’s your _wedding._ It’s one of the only times where it’s okay to make it into a big deal, because it’s supposed to be the happiest day of your life.”

    “I should probably go,” Bear said, ignoring Phil for the second time. “I’ll talk to you later about Friday. And thank you.”

    “See you then,” Phil said. Bear ended the call first, leaving Phil staring at his phone for a moment in silence. He turned it off, setting it on the coffee table with a sigh. Something was wrong with Bear and had been for a long time, the only problem was that Phil didn’t know what said ‘something’ was, and it wasn’t like Bear was going to open up anytime soon.

    Phil would even go as far as to say that something had been wrong since they’d first met, although it had definitely gotten worse. And as firmly as he tried to convince himself that it wasn’t his issue and that Bear could deal with it on his own, somehow he couldn’t quite manage it.


	18. Chapter Eighteen

    Phil hated shopping. There was absolutely nothing about it that he found even vaguely appealing, and while he could happily spend hours in bookstores that was different. There was something about shopping with Bear though that made the entire experience somewhat bearable, until he remembered what it was they were shopping for.

      “What about this?” Phil asked, pulling yet another suit off of the hanger and holding it up for Bear to inspect.

       Bear released a long breath through his teeth, eyeing the suit up and down. “It’s not the right shade of black.”

      “The right shade of black?” Phil snorted. “You release that technically speaking, black is a shade?”

      “That doesn’t mean that there can’t be different shades of a shade,” Bear retorted, returning to his browsing. “I don’t like it.”

      “Of course you don’t,” Phil sighed, rolling his eyes as he hung the suit back up.

        “What’s that supposed to mean?”

      “Nothing,” Phil muttered, moving a coat out of the way. Originally he’d planned on wearing his funeral suit, but both Daisy and Bear had vetoed it. He supposed that wearing a suit intended for funerals to his best friend’s wedding might seem a little morbid, but frankly there wasn’t a great deal of distinction between the two in his mind.

     “None of these are the right color,” Bear said in frustration.

     “For someone who claims to not care about shopping you’re being picky enough about the exact shade to convince me otherwise.”

     “There are some things that you have to take seriously, and this is one of them,” Bear said, frowning in concentration as he pulled another suit off of the rack. “And we still have to find shoes and a tie.”

    “‘Same suit, different tie,’” Phil quoted with a smile as he continued to look.

    “Nerd,” Bear coughed into his arm, smirking slightly.

     “We’ve already been over this. Besides, it’s what you love about me,” Phil said, not thinking before the words left his mouth.

      “Of course,” Bear deadpanned. His expression was unreadable, although Phil was inclined to think that he was joking.

     “So according to you, how many shades of black are there?” Phil asked.   

    “Fifty.”

    “Technically, there’s only one shade of black and the others are all shades of gray,” Phil protested more to get a rise out of Bear than out of any actual conviction.

     “Then why is it fifty shades of gray if any variation on black is gray?” Bear challenged, the corner of his lips quirking up even as he fought to hide his amusement.

      “It wasn’t actually fifty shades of gray the color. He had fifty ties.”

     Bear scowled. “That’s fucking stupid.”

    “What about those books isn’t?”

    “There are more than one?”

    “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but it’s a trilogy.”

     Bear screwed his face into a pained expression. “Jesus Christ. What state is this world collapsing into?”

     “One where badly written Twilight smut fanfictions are the newest phenomenon,” Phil sighed. The media and public where going to want what it wanted, and it wasn’t like there was anything he could do about it.

     “Dark times,” Bear frowned.

      “We exist in the same world as fireflies though so it can’t be all bad,” Phil reasoned. He pulled another suit off of the rack. “This meet your inspection?”

     Bear tilted his head to the side slightly as he surveyed the article of clothing in front of him. “I guess,” he said finally.

     “Are you sure it’s the right shade of black?” Phil teased. “Do you want to inspect it? I can hand it to you and you’re welcome to take out a magnifying glass and check the thread count. Really, it’s not a problem.”

    “Do you actually want me to punch you in the face?”  Bear asked, raising an eyebrow.

     “You’re putting a lot of effort into this down to precise shades for it not to be ‘a big deal.’”

    “It still isn’t, but that doesn’t mean that I want to walk down the aisle in front of a couple hundred people dressed like a layabout.”

    Phil tugged an extravagant looking suit off of its hanger, holding it up for Bear to see. “Does this work?” he asked innocently. “We can get you silk tie too if you’d like, although that might not be fancy enough either.”

    Bear rolled his eyes. “I don’t want to look like a pompous twat either.”

    “Did anyone ever tell you that you’re kind of demanding?” Phil teased, hanging the suit back up and picking up the one Bear had approved. “Have you found one that you deemed wearable yet?”

    Bear waved the sleeve of the suit he was holding in Phil’s general direction. “The sooner we get out of here the better. After you finish changing I want to make sure that they look okay together.”

    Phil snorted, smiling despite himself. “They’re black suits–how could they not go together?”

    “The changing rooms are somewhere over there,” Bear said, jerking with his chin and apparently choosing to ignore Phil’s remark.

     Phil followed Bear to the dressing rooms marked clearly with a large sign hanging from the ceiling. As they walked underneath of it, he couldn’t help but glance up and wonder what would happen if the sign came disconnected from its cables and crashed down on top of him. Maybe not the happiest thoughts, but he wasn’t feeling very happy as he slipped into a stall and locked the door behind him.

     He slipped the suit on as quickly as he could, pulling the jacket on and tying the generic tie that had come slung around the hanger. He’d neglected to look for shoes, and as he gave himself a onceover in the mirror he had to admit that the effect of the outfit was somewhat undermined by his blue spotted and yellow striped socks.

      Phil cracked open the door to spy Bear leaning against the stall beside him. Opening the door fully, Phil carefully made his way to lean against the door mirroring Bear’s position.

    “You look nice,” Bear said quietly, his eyes briefly flickering up and down Phil’s form before glancing away.

     “You do too,” Phil answered just as quietly, personally thinking that _nice_ was somewhat of an understatement. Bear had been dressed nicely enough at the restaurant, but this was the first time Phil had seen him in a suit. There was something about the fit of the jacket and the sharp contrast of dark brown eyes and brown hair that was beginning to curl at the ends against the black that made Phil’s chest hurt.

      “The suits seem to go together well enough,” Bear said finally, his eyes darting back to meet Phil’s. “I’m sure Abbie will think it’s fine, but what do you think?”

    “I think everything looks fine,” Phil said, swallowing. Abbie’s name and the reminder of why they were buying the suits in the first place was like slap to the face. Bear’s eyes were dark and unreadable, and in contrast Phil felt like any delusions he had of walls had been stripped away until all that was left was the feeling of drowning. Phil balled his hands into fists, wondering what Bear was thinking and if everything felt as fucked up to him as it did to Phil.

     Bear nodded silently, ripping his gaze away from Phil’s and disappearing into the changing room without another word.

…

    Daisy and Liam sat across from Phil, Liam typing something into his phone while Daisy surveyed Phil with a critical look bordering on concern.

     “You two are invited to the wedding, by the way,” Phil added, stirring the sugar into his coffee and pretending that he didn’t notice Daisy’s look.

      “I’ll make sure to save the date,” Liam said, a slightly sarcastic edge to his voice from behind his phone screen. “I’ll be done in just a second, sorry. Work stuff.”

     Daisy rolled her eyes. “Now that you have a fancy office job?”

     “What do you think they pay me to do?” Liam asked, pausing and meeting Daisy’s eyes with a soft smile. “Sit around and look pretty? That’s just the added bonus.”

     “Liam and I are moving in together,” Daisy said, returning Liam’s smile with one of her own.

     “Is that so that you can see his beautiful face anytime you feel like it?” Phil asked, smirking.

     “I just don’t know what I would do without it,” Daisy said regretfully. “It’s like I have an addiction or something.”

   “Congratulations,” Phil said, backtracking slightly and remembering his manners. “Are you buying a place together?”

     “For the moment I’m moving in with Daisy,” Liam said. “But we might at some point.”

    “So does that mean I can expect an invitation to your wedding at some point?” Phil asked.

     “Of course you can,” Daisy said. “If we ever get married you’re definitely invited. I’m assuming as best man, but it wouldn’t be right otherwise.”

    “If you survive Bear’s wedding first,” Liam said with a mischievous grin. “We all know how much you enjoy making speeches in front of crowds.”

     Phil pulled a face. “I forgot about that part.”

    “The trick is to make it as cliched as you can,” Liam advised. “People lap that shit up like you wouldn’t believe.” 

    “Cliched,” Phil nodded, miming taking notes. “Anything else?”

    “Something about being happy for the couple and your undying friendship wouldn’t hurt either,” Liam said.

      “Can you just write it for me?” Phil asked, widening his eyes in his best impression of puppy dog eyes. “You seem to know what you’re talking about.”

    “No,” Liam rolled his eyes, laughing slightly. “I’m not doing your dirty work for you. Besides, would you really want me to write a speech about someone who I’ve never met for their wedding?”

     Daisy was still watching Phil with a critical and questioning stare, as if trying to see into his mind and thoughts. “Why is it that every time we’re together you’re always looking at me like I’m going to drop dead any minute now?” Phil asked wearily.

      “You look like death warmed over,” Daisy said bluntly.

      “Thanks.”

      “You have ever since you first mentioned meeting Bear in Ink and Quill and I can’t help but wonder if there’s a connection between the two.”

      “I just haven’t been sleeping very well lately is all,” Phil said, lying through his teeth. The honest truth was that he was tired of pretending that everything was fine and that he wasn’t falling apart a little more every time he helped Bear or Abbie with another wedding preparation or saw the two of them together. He knew it wasn’t fair, especially when he also had Dan to think about but Phil couldn’t seem to stop.

      “Are you worried that he’ll forget about you?” Daisy persisted.

     “I can murder anyone that you need me to,” Liam offered, turning off his phone and slipping it into his pocket.

      “No and no, although I might take you up on that last one someday,” Phil joked, the attempt sounding feeble even to his own ears.

      “You can tell us anything, you know that right?” Daisy asked gently.

      “Look mate, this is selfish now,” Liam said seriously. “Sure I feel badly for you, but seeing you all wired and stressed out isn’t doing wonders for my mental state either and it would nice to be able to go for a couple of days without Daisy talking my ear off about you or worrying that something’s wrong.”

     Phil sighed, running a hand through his hair and blinking past the fatigue. It was rare that Liam was so direct, and eventually the temptation in not having to hide everything for any longer won over. “I’m in love with Bear,” he said flatly. It was the first time he’d ever said it–or even thought it, but he was feeling too numb to appreciate the poetry of the moment.

     Daisy’s eyes filled with sympathy. “Phil…”

    Phil shrugged. “It’s fine.”

    Liam frowned. “You don’t have to pretend with us.”

   “It’s not fine,” Phil said quietly. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

   “Not really, but at least you’re not shoving everything down again,” Liam said. “That’s what you were doing before and it wasn’t healthy.”

     “Thank you psychiatrist,” Phil said sarcastically. He stretched his legs out underneath of the table, crossing his arms.

        “Have you told him that?” Daisy asked.

      “You two are the first people I’ve told,” Phil said grimly. “And it’s not like it would make a difference anyway. He’s getting married in two weeks.” The silence that descended over the table was heavy and stifling, and Phil felt like it was threatening to suffocate him.

      “Do you still want to go to the wedding?” Liam asked.

      “Not really,” Phil said. “But it’d be worse not to go.” Because while being best man and watching was going to hurt like hell, ultimately it would be worse not knowing and to leave Bear alone and stranded.

         Daisy nodded wordlessly. “We’ll come, won’t we?” she gave Liam a pointed look.

      “I’ll even wear a suit,” Liam said, picking up on the hint. “Everything will work out in the end, Phil. Don’t worry.”

     “Can you really promise that?” Phil asked, his eyes dropping to his wrist. The words might not have been his primary concern as of late, but they were still a constant reminder that Phil was never going to be able to have a normal life no matter how hard he tried.

       Liam and Daisy were silent, only serving to confirm his point. In the end, none of them could promise much of anything.

…

    Dan visited Phil at _Ink and Quill_ ten days before Bear’s wedding. Phil glanced up at the ring of the bell, plastering his business smile onto his face and turning his chair to face Dan.

      “Can I help you with anything?” he asked politely.

      Dan smiled. “Yes, actually,” he said. “I was wondering if a certain employee at this fine establishment would be interested in accompanying to a wedding?”

     Phil feigned thinking. “There might be,” he said at length, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Depending on how you ask.”

     Dan laughed. “Phil Lester, will you be my guest to the wedding of our fine friends?”

    “Are we going to go for matching bow ties?” Phil asked, smiling.

      “I’m more into the pastel shades myself,” Dan shrugged. “But any color is fine with me honestly. I’m not too picky.”

    “We’re wearing ties anyway,” Phil said.

     “What color?”

    “Black. Living the high life clearly.”

    “Nothing but classy,” Dan nodded. “Are you wearing your funeral suit?”

     “I thought about it, but I decided it was too morbid in the end.”

    “Weddings are more about beginnings and funerals are more about endings,” Dan said. “Although I guess you could always argue that funerals are the beginning to something too, albeit in a slightly more melancholy way.”

    “People always paint death as this horrifying fate as ‘the worse possible thing’ that could happen to you, but it happens to us all eventually and personally I think there are a lot of things that are worse than dying.” One of the things that Phil appreciated about Dan was that because he was an author he was able to ramble without being shut down.

      “You have a point,” Dan said after a momentary pause. “Humans fear the unknown, and fear of death is really just the same childhood fear of the dark in a slightly larger form.”

    “That’s a good way to put it,” Phil said. He laughed. “I don’t know why I’m surprised. Words and metaphors are your job.”

    “I love it when you get philosophical,” Dan smiled. “I kind of want to kiss you.”

   “I’m kind of not stopping you.”

     Dan made his way to Phil’s desk, Phil standing as their lips collided. It was easy to go through the motions of being in love, and while he liked Dan certainly he couldn’t seem to stop comparing him to Bear which wasn’t fair to either of them. Given time and if Bear hadn’t been in the picture he might’ve been able to fall in love with Dan, and if Phil ever managed to get over Bear he still might, but for the moment everything about their relationship felt superficial.

      Even now with Dan’s lips pressed to his all Phil could think about was Bear. He opened his eyes, gently stepping back away from Dan. Dan’s eyes flew open, and he gave Phil a confused look.

      “Is something wrong?”

     Phil sighed, willing his heart rate to return to normal. “I changed my mind.”

     “About what?”

    “The wedding. I can’t go with you. I’m sorry.”

    “Is that supposed to be you breaking up with me?” Dan laughed, something about the action coming across as pained. “Did I do something wrong? I don’t understand–”

     “It’s nothing that you did, trust me,” Phil said as gently as he could. “I never should have said yes in the first place, but at least for right now it’s not fair to either of us to force a relationship that’s not reciprocated on both sides.”

     “Are you in love with someone else?”     Phil hesitated. “It doesn’t matter,” he said at length. “Either way I think you’re a lovely person Dan. Thank you for everything, and I wish you luck.”

     Dan stared back at him, his expression vulnerable and lost. He still had some of the most beautiful eyes Phil had ever seen.

      Dan looked as though he struggled with the words for a moment before speaking again. “Does that mean you still won’t go to the wedding with me as friend? I don’t mean any offense to the other guests, but going alone would kind of suck.”

      Phil smiled. “I would love to.”

… 

    Bear called eight days before his wedding. “Hey,” he said once Phil had answered. “What are you doing right now?”

    “Listening to Muse. Updating my blog. Browsing the internet. Living life to its fullest obviously. You?”

     “Would you believe I’m doing the same thing?” Bear asked dryly. “Minus the blog part. We’ve already established that we know how to live on the edge, this is just confirming that point even more.”

     “Do you want to come over?” Phil offered.

      He heard Bear laugh on the other end of the line. “It’s two in the morning Cat.”

     “So?”

     “So I’ll be over in a couple of minutes.” Bear ended the call, Phil smiling slightly as he nestled deeper into the sofa. _Attack on Titan_ was fifteen minutes into an episode when Bear slipped through the door and joined him on the sofa.

      Phil turned his head to look at him, laughing as he shook his head. “Pajamas?”

    “I wasn’t about to change,” Bear defended, grinning. “I got a couple of strange looks, but it was worth it to be honest.”

     “It would’ve been better if they were footies,” Phil said.

      “I’m too tall, otherwise I would’ve trust me.” Bear nudged Phil on the shoulder. “Let me in.” Phil relinquished his grip on the blanket enough for Bear to tuck the blanket underneath him. Bear was still slightly cold from being outside, and Phil fought back a shiver.

      “There’s an issue that I wasn’t aware of until now,” he said.

      Bear reoriented himself until he was facing Phil. “What’s that?”

     “The Muse concert is the night before your wedding,” Phil said, wincing. “I checked our tickets the other day again and I hadn’t realized the dates until now.”

     Bear relaxed back into the sofa. “Is that it? I thought it was going to be something big.”

    Phil stared at him. “Isn’t there usually something that the groom does the night before the wedding? I don’t know anything about weddings, but I’m pretty sure there’s usually some kind of celebration? Aside from that, it’s going to be kind of late.”

    “Muse is more than enough,” Bear said firmly. “I’d rather go to a concert than have a party anyway. I’ve pulled all nighters before and been fine, so don’t worry about me.” He gave Phil a slight smirk. “If I didn’t know better I’d say you were trying to get rid of me.”

     “Never,” Phil promised. “We’ve been planning this for too long for me to try and do that.”

     “Good,” Bear said in satisfaction. “I was going to find my way in regardless even if it involved sneaking past security.”

      “Turning to a life of crime are we?” Phil tsked. “I’m disappointed.”

     “‘Where there’s a will there’s a way.’ Which is basically simply justification for people to go ahead and do whatever the hell they want.”

     The two lapsed into a comfortable silence, Bear resting his head on Phil’s shoulder. Phil gently laid his chin on the top of Bear’s head, letting his eyes flutter shut. For a moment he could almost believe that they together with Bear’s warmth seeping into him and the feeling of safety present in every action he made.

      “I broke up with Dan,” Phil said quietly. Technically it wasn’t any of Bear’s business, but for unknown reason Phil still felt compelled to tell him. He felt Bear still beside him.

      “You did?” Bear’s tone was a little too casual. “Do you mind if I ask why?”

     Phil shrugged. “It wasn’t fair to either of us.”

     “I’m sorry,” Bear said softly.

      “I’m happier this way,” Phil said truthfully. Because even though saying that he was completely happy was still a stretch, breaking up with Dan had been the right thing to do. It was better than forcing a relationship that was only going to hurt more the longer it lasted, and all that was left to do was hope that eventually he’d get over Bear. Happiness was such an abstract concept itself that at this point almost was good enough.


	19. Chapter Nineteen

     Phil stood in the empty living room, leaning against the doorframe beside Liam and watching as Daisy gave the mirror one final, slight turn to the left. Daisy’s flat had always been neatly organized with everything in its rightful place. In contrast Liam’s flat had always been messy, shoes littering the floor and the rest of his things scattered everywhere.

     The majority of Liam’s possessions had been moved back to his parent’s home, and for the time being Daisy’s flat was relatively unchanged with the remainder of Liam’s belongings distributed amongst Daisy’s. At least for the moment everything looked fairly orderly, although Phil wasn’t sure how much longer that was going to last.

     “Have you found the perfect angle for that mirror yet?” Phil asked, hiding his smile.

     “It’s all about the symmetry,” Daisy said, completely stone faced as she stepped away from the mirror to admire her work. Apparently satisfied, she settled into the sofa cushions and crossed her legs.

      “Have to represent the aesthetic,” Liam nodded, smirking lightly. “At least one of us has a sense of style.”

     “Thank you,” Phil said mockingly with a deep bow. “At least someone has appreciation for my talents.”

      “Piss off,” Liam rolled his eyes. “Anyway, what’s this I hear about a Muse concert?” He crossed the living room to sit beside Daisy, Phil sitting on his other side.

     He flushed. “What concert?” Liam’s raised eyebrow was enough to make him abandon any attempts at playing dumb. “It’s the night before Bear’s wedding.”

     “And how come I wasn’t invited?” Liam’s smile had taken on a distinctly mischievous note as he met Phil’s gaze.

     “I’m going with Bear,” Phil mumbled, feeling himself turn even redder if it was it possible.

     “What was that?”

     “You heard what I said.”

      “I hope you two have a good time,” Liam blinked at him innocently. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”

      “Shut up,” Phil said, aiming a kick at Liam’s foot. Liam dodged out of the way, laughing. “Nothing’s going to happen, and I’m definitely not going to do anything you wouldn’t do—or would for that matter.” It was hardly anything new for Liam and Daisy to tease him about Bear, they’d been doing that for as long as he could remember. With the more immediate date of Bear’s wedding though, any of the teasing struck a lot closer to home.

     “Thanks,” Liam said sarcastically, nudging Phil’s shoulder. “I don’t know what I’d do without your unwavering trust in my judgement.”

     “I don’t know what I’d do without it either truthfully,” Phil answered. “My life would be devoid of common sense.”

      “What a pity that would be,” Liam muttered under his breath.

      “No offense Phil, but you’re hardly known for your common sense as it is,” Daisy pointed out with a quiet smile. “Do you remember that time where you almost set Liam’s house on fire?”

     “It’s not my fault I didn’t know you should put matches in water after blowing them out,” Phil protested weakly with a smile of his own. “And it was once, okay?”

    “And then there was that time in P.E. where you—“

     “Shut up Daisy,” Phil was laughing as he sent her a glare of mock anger. “I haven’t forgotten, trust me. Don’t make me go into that time when you were spending the night at my house and–”

      “I thought we agreed not to speak of that again,” Daisy said, pointing a threatening finger in Phil’s general direction.

      “Speak of what?” Phil asked innocently. “I have no idea what you’re on about.” The thing about Daisy and Liam was that they had been part of Phil’s life for almost as long as could remember that he knew them just as well as they knew him, and the majority of Phil’s misadventures had happened alongside the two of them.

     “I’m hungry,” Liam declared in typical fashion. Phil had never been sure on how Liam managed to eat so much food and maintain a relatively scrawny form. Liam had toted it as being one of his many talents, although Phil was more inclined to think it was a high metabolism.

     “We can fix something here or go out,” Daisy threw out the options.

      “Go out,” Phil and Liam said in unison.

      Daisy shot the duo a wounded look. “My cooking isn’t that bad.”

      “Define _that_ ,” Phil said.

     “It’s not like either of you can cook a piece of toast without setting it on fire,” Daisy retorted good naturedly.

     “I can make pancakes,” Phil defended. “And cereal.”

     “I don’t think pouring cereal into a bowl and adding milk counts as cooking, because I can do that,” Liam said. “And we all know I can’t cook for shit. You’d probably all die of food poisoning if you tried to eat anything I made.”

      “Are you sure moving in with him was the right decision?” Phil asked, glancing at Daisy with feigned concern. “If I were you I’d make sure to the contact information for the Poison Control Center nearby. I wouldn’t want you to die from food poisoning.”

     “Alright mate actually piss off,” Liam shook his head, laughing. “And for your information, I can cook a mean macaroni and cheese.”

     “If you say so,” Phil shrugged. “But if it’s all the same to you I’ll take your word on it and opt for eating out.”

     “Pizza?” Daisy suggested with a smile, following Liam and Phil out of the flat and closing the door firmly behind her.

 

…

 

     Rules at _Ink and Quill_ were somewhat lax, given the fact Phil was its only employee aside from Zack’s occasional day spent in the shop. The date of the Muse concert fell on a Friday, and one that Phil was working. Zack had agreed to swap one of his days in for that Friday, and Phil had agreed immediately 

     While he probably didn’t need the entire day off beforehand, selfishly speaking there was a part of Phil that wanted to spend as much time with Bear as he could before he was married. The two had decided on to have a later lunch and get ready in Phil’s flat before leaving for the concert.

     Phil spent the days leading up to the concert in a haze of working, sleeping, eating, and working out the finer details for the wedding. It was hard enough finding energy to smile and laugh at appropriate times during the conversation while helping with the wedding, let alone finding the motivation to do much else. By the time Thursday rolled around Phil still hadn’t written his speech, and to say he was starting to worry was an understatement.

     He had bypassed worry and gone straight to full panic. In a last ditch attempt, he locked the door to his bedroom and sat at his desk with his laptop open in front of him. The cursor blinked on the empty document in front of him, taunting in the fact that the page was completely blank. Nothing he could come up with seemed to be right, and everything he wrote seemed to be wrong.

      Phil sighed, running a weary hand through his hair. He tapped his fingers on the surface of his desk, crossing and then uncrossing his legs in an effort to find a position that was reasonably comfortable. Giving up, he slumped over his desk and squeezed his eyes shut. Words were swimming in his mind, disjointed and confused and no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t seem to make sense of them.

     The keys were cold underneath of his fingers as Phil opened his eyes, beginning to type. Having only attended a few weddings in his lifetime, it wasn’t as though he had much to go on in terms of inspiration. Even more of an issue than inspiration was motivation.

     _I haven’t known Bear for long, but_

Phil winced, pressing a hand to his temple. He was hardly a stranger to headaches, but this was a migraine the likes of which he’d never felt before. He pushed his chair away from the desk, stretching out his limbs as best as he could. Sliding the laptop towards him, he opened Spotify and put Muse of shuffle in an attempt to focus. It was a bit counterproductive, because instead of focusing it gave him a handy distraction.

     His fingers hovered over the keys as he chewed at his bottom lip furiously. He supposed he could always mention something about Bear being an amazing friend and a lovely person and wish the happy couple a glorious union or some shit like that, but none of it seemed genuine and even if Phil wasn’t happy about the wedding that didn’t mean he wanted to fuck it up for Bear.

     He found himself humming along quietly under his breath as he brainstormed, drifting off to a vivid daydream of the precise rise and fall of Matt Bellamy’s voice as the chorus of _Starlight_ began to play. _Starlight_ had previously been one of his favorite songs, but as he listened some of the lyrics hit a little too close to reality for his liking.

      Phil slammed his laptop shut with considerably more force than was probably necessary. He shoved his chair away from his desk and unlocked his door, slipping out into the hall and heading for the kitchen. His bedroom door swung shut behind him, the sound echoing down the hall as he leaned against the kitchen island.

     He closed his eyes, listening to the sound of the traffic underneath of his window. He tried to focus on his breathing, shutting out any other thoughts except the motions of inhaling and exhaling. Phil pushed himself away from the counter, heading for his room. The speech needed to be finished before the concert but instead of returning to work Phil turned off his lamp and climbed under his duvet, closing his eyes and counting each breath until he fell asleep.

 

…

 

     Phil tapped his fingers against the table absentmindedly, hiding a smile as Bear kicked him underneath the table.

      “Cat,” he hissed in an exaggerated stage whisper.

      Phil jolted to attention, blinking. “Right, sorry. I’ll have the spaghetti please.” The waitress nodded, turning and leaving after a final, parting smile.

     “Someone tired?” Bear asked, raising an eyebrow.

     “I didn’t sleep well last night,” Phil admitted.

     “I’m sorry,” Bear made a sympathetic face. “That sucks. But think on the positive.” He grinned, looking remarkably like a child at Christmastime. “We’re going to see Muse in three hours.”

     Phil’s smile widened. “Finally.”

     “I told you that you wouldn’t be able to get rid of me,” Bear said. His words were joking, but there was a slight edge to his voice that hinted at something sincere.

     Phil frowned, leaning forwards. He still couldn’t help but feel badly about everything that had happened, though Bear had reassured him numerous times over that he was fine and that there were no hard feelings. “Listen to me—the last thing I want to do is get rid of you. I’m sorry about what I said, I was angry and it was stupid and…”

     “Don’t worry about it,” Bear said with a reassuring smile. “I’m over that, trust me. And I said plenty of things on my part that weren’t right either so I have just as much right to apologize as you do.”

      “You have.”

      “So have you.”

      “Then we’re even,” Bear said. “We’ve already been over this anyway.” He took a long sip from his drink before setting the glass on a table with a thud. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Can you do me a favor?”

        “That depends on what it is,” Phil said slightly warily.

        “After tomorrow I’m going to be _married_ ,” Bear forced the word _married_ out as though it was toxic. “Just for tonight can we forget about that? I’d like to be able to attend a concert with my best friend without having to think about anything else.”

        “Of course,” Phil said. “If that’s what you want I’m more than willing to do that.”

        “Are you excited?” Bear asked, the smile returning to his features.

        “Definitely,” Phil answered. “Are you?”

        “Truthfully, I don’t think I’ve ever been more excited for anything in my life,” Bear cringed. “That sounds really depressing actually.”

        “I don’t think I have been either,” Phil said. “If it’s any consolation.” He chewed at his bottom lip in an effort to hide his frown. The idea of Bear being forced into a marriage that he didn’t want made something inside of Phil contort into an ugly feeling that was akin to anger and protectiveness. “I finished _The Hobbit_ last night,” he added. While Phil loved nothing more than reading he wasn’t as quick at it as he might’ve liked.

       “Really?” Bear twisted his napkin in his lap. “And what did you think?”

      “I read it a while ago, but I had forgotten most of how it went. I liked your notes too, I hadn’t noticed some of the things that you did.”

      “Who was your favorite character?” Dan asked.

       Phil hesitated, thinking. “I’ve always liked Gollum,” he said finally. “You?”

       “Of course you do,” Bear rolled his eyes, smiling. “Personally I like Thorin.”

      “Of course you do,” Phil echoed.

        “Why do you say Gollum?”

      “I know he’s responsible for a lot of the problems in the Middle Earth books, but at the same time I think his character shows easily it is to give into temptation, especially because he wasn’t an elf or a dwarf, he was a hobbit—a simple yet contented being and one of the few who didn’t have magic powers or a kingdom under his command. He lived the simplest life, yet at the same time the power was too much for him and I can’t but wonder if anyone when given power can remain good or if in the end it corrupts us all.” Phil paused to catch his breath, feeling slightly embarrassed that Bear had let him ramble on for so long.

      “I hated Gollum,” Bear said quietly. “I think now I finally understand why. It’s what you said, he’s one of the most human characters in the series. I’ve always hated Gollum because he reminds me of myself.”

      Phil blanched at his words, trying to disguise his action by taking a sip of his water. “Why do you like Thorin?” he asked at length.

       “He was so determined to reclaim his land and defeat Smaug that nothing could deter him from that goal,” Bear said with a startling amount of passion. “He knew what he wanted and he had made up his mind that he was going to get there one way or another, despite what anyone else said or tried to pressure him into doing.”

       Phil got the impression that they weren’t just talking about _The Hobbit_ any more. “There’s also strength in listening to the advice of others and taking their opinions into consideration alongside your own.”

      “But how do you know when it’s too far?” Bear’s eyes sought out Phil’s something in them asking him a question deeper than his words conveyed. “How do you know when you’re letting people influence your decision so much that it’s no longer yours? And is that a bad thing? What if they really do know better?”

        “There comes a point in life where you have to do whatever makes you happiest, because ultimately you’re going to be the one that’s stuck with the choices you make.”

        “But sometimes it’s not that simple,” Bear grimaced. He glanced down at the table before meeting Phil’s eyes again. “I guess that’s what made Thorin my childhood hero. He never gave up on his goal.”

        “That reminds me of that song from _Tangled,_ something about never giving up on your dream?”

        “Way to kill the mood Cat,” Bear snorted, rolling his eyes. “But the same theme I suppose.”

        “Have you seen the movies yet?” Phil asked.

         “I finally did,” Bear smiled. “They definitely added and changed more than I would’ve, but overall I thought it could’ve been worse.”

        “ _Percy Jackson_ worse,” Phil muttered.

         “God no,” Bear gave a mock shudder. “If it had been that bad I swear I would’ve pressed charges.”

        “I’m not sure that’s something you can do,” Phil laughed. “You’re the law student, what’s the protocols for that kind of thing?”

         “Search me,” Bear shrugged. “I don’t know. You can tell I pay attention,” he said sarcastically.

        “You don’t use most of what you learn in school once you graduate anyway,” Phil said.

        “I think it depends on what kind of job you pursue too.” Bear tapped his fingernail against his glass, humming something indistinct under his breath. “I’ve had _Supremacy_ stuck in my head all day,” he announced suddenly.

         “It’s a catchy song,” Phil said sympathetically. “At least you’re in the mood though.”

       “One upside,” Bear said, his expression lighting up again. “Less than three hours now.”

        “You’re like a child at Christmas,” Phil said, laughing slightly.

       “That analogy is so accurate it physically hurts,” Bear said dryly.

        “I’m like a child at Christmas too,” Phil countered. “My brain isn’t functioning to its maximum potential right now.”

          “I can’t wait.”

         “Me neither.”

 

…

 

     The roar of the crowd was nearly overpowering, and in any other situation it would’ve been deafening. But as Phil was cheering easily just as loud as anyone else and he figured that it would be a little hypothetical of him to complain. The vaguely outlined figures of Matt Bellamy and the rest of the band were outlined by the lights behind them, anticipation charging the air.

      The room seemed to hold its breath as the cheering was silenced and the figures up on the stage moved around back to their respective positions. Phil edged forwards in his seat, straining to see the stage. He’d been to several concerts before, but he couldn’t remember ever feeling the rush of euphoria that he felt now, clearing his mind until all that was left was a sense of excitement.

      The final song of the evening, _Mercy,_ began to play, its opening measures spreading a grin across Phil’s face. He glanced over at Bear to see him nodding his head in time with the music, mouthing the words. If he was singing Phil couldn’t hear him, although the grin on Bear’s face was broader than he had ever seen it; an expression that he was sure was mirrored on his own features.

      Phil joined the rest of the crowd in singing along, his words lost in the music and cheering of the rest of the audience. The effect that a concert had on him was unexpected, but at the same time there was something about the feeling of the music moving through him with Bear by his side and knowing that everyone else around him was just as in love with the song as he was that was exhilarating.

        A hand slipped into his, and he laced their fingers together. Phil glanced over in surprise to find Bear staring back at him, biting his lip and raising an eyebrow as if to ask whether the gesture was okay. Phil smiled, though he wasn’t sure if Bear could make out his expression in the dark.

        The song drew to a close, cheering drowning out Matt Bellamy’s words as he wrapped up the concert. Bear raised his voice to be heard over the din, turning to face Phil.

        “Thank you!” he said, Phil straining to hear him. “This was the most fun I’ve ever had.”

       “Me too,” Phil said, grinning. “I don’t want it to end.”

       “’All good things must come to an end,’” Bear quoted.

       “I don’t want them to,” Phil said, his words quiet enough that he wasn’t sure if Bear could hear him. The performance itself had been amazing, although he hardly expected anything less. If he had had to pick a way to spend the last day with Bear, he couldn’t have come up with a different scenario that would’ve gone more smoothly.

      “I don’t either,” Bear said, Phil barely able to hear his words over the continued clapping from the crowd. “But it doesn’t matter what we do and don’t want. They end regardless and all that we can do is try to go along with it.”

       “I’m glad you’re here with me,” Phil said, realizing only in hindsight how that must have sounded. “I may have gotten the tickets, but thank you for agreeing to come.”

          “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” Bear’s voice faltered for a moment before he cleared his throat, regaining confidence. “Can I do something? I know I shouldn’t but…”

           “Of course,” Phil said, frowning slightly as he tried to read Bear’s expression in the dim lighting. Still holding his hand, Bear reached up and cupped Phil’s chin with his free hand. He took a deep breath as if to steel himself. “What are you doing?” Phil asked, making to pull away as panic mingled with an indescribable want to kiss Bear again one last time even though he knew it was wrong. Before he could move, Bear leaned in and gently pressed his lips to Phil’s. He pulled away a few seconds later, staring wordlessly at Phil through the dark.

           “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Phil managed, catching his breath. He gave Bear a final, weak smile before slipping into the aisle and bolting for the door.

 

…

 

          That night Phil lay in his bed, door closed and locked and the lights out. He wasn’t asleep, but he closed his eyes anyway and listened to the dead quiet of the night. His laptop with the speech, still unwritten, lay on his bedside table; the cursor blinking on the empty page. Phil turned on his side away from his computer, squeezing his eyes shut until he drifted off into sleep.


	20. Chapter Twenty

       Phil stared at his reflection in the mirror, tightening his tie and sliding his feet into his shoes. He tried for a smile as he shrugged on his coat, but the result was a forced expression that he thought was probably a little too much like a grimace for the occasion. He abandoned the effort a few seconds later, releasing a long breath and turning away from his reflection. He couldn’t particularly say that he liked what he saw very much.

         As he walked past his desk Phil swept the index card off of the surface and folded it. He folded it again, another time, and then again. He paused in the entryway of his bedroom door, unfolding the card and staring at the completely blank paper as though it held the answers to all the world’s questions.

         Phil closed his eyes, _willing_ the card to have a speech magically appear on it by the time he opened his eyes again. After waiting a minute or two he cracked an eyelid open, staring at the predictably though disappointingly blank card.

        He refolded the disappointingly blank index card and shoved it into his pocket as he closed the door to his flat, forgoing the stairs in favor of the lift. He had never been much of a fan for exercise as it was, and as he already felt like he was skating the line a little by not having written his speech the last thing he needed was to fall down the stairs and get his suit all bloody.

       Phil always made it a point to be early as often as he could and somehow he managed to snag a cab almost immediately, sliding into the backseat and exchanging a few mumbled pleasantries with the driver before tuning everything out.

        The fact remained that Bear was getting married in exactly two and a half hours and Phil still hadn’t written a speech. He didn’t see what he could do about that problem in two and a half hours, and realistically the final result would probably be a combination of stuttering and bullshitting the entire ordeal. He slumped further down into the seat, adjusting his fringe absentmindedly and wishing for a cup of coffee. Hell, he’d even settle for a cup brewed from _Ink and Quill._

With the million other things running through his mind on endless repeat, there was only so much Phil could comprehend at once before his mind began to shut down. For some reason Bear’s words—which hadn’t made an appearance yet—returned to crowd his thoughts until there was no room for anything else.

      _You’re the worst person in the world._

Phil’s phone lit up with an incoming text, and he pushed Bear’s words to the back of his mind long enough to read the message.

     _From Tholia:_

_good luck i hope you got the speech finished on time_

The text was the first real contact Phil had had with Tholia aside from when Bear had mentioned meeting her. It only went to figure that it would be with a reminder.

The cab pulled to a stop in front of the church a short drive later, and after paying Phil found himself standing at the bottom of the steps. The church itself loomed in front of him, almost threatening. Or maybe it was more what the church symbolized than the building itself, because as Abbie pushed the doors open and greeted him with a smile Phil felt like he was going to throw up.

       Nothing about this was appealing in any way, shape, or form, but it was for Bear’s sake that Phil returned the greeting and proceeded into the church. He seemed to be doing most things for Bear’s sake lately. Dan was sitting in one of the pews near the front of the dais, phone in hand and head bent. Phil resisted the urge to duck behind a pew of his own. While he and Dan hadn’t parted on _un_ friendly terms exactly they hadn’t been especially friendly either.

        Abbie was still talking; something about what happened after the wedding and Phil frowned, firmly telling himself to get it together as he tried to listen.

        “Does that make any sense?” Abbie asked, biting her lip nervously. She seemed a little high strung, which Phil supposed was only to be expected.

        “Yeah,” Phil nodded, thinking that he couldn’t possibly be even more lost than he was at the moment. “Perfect sense, thanks.”

        “Thank you for everything that you’ve done to help,” Abbie said with a slightly distracted smile. “For both myself and Bear. You’ve stuck around through a lot of crap and I’m sorry that things didn’t work out with Dan.”

        Phil coughed self-consciously, clearing his throat. While he hadn’t necessarily wanted to keep his and Dan’s breakup a secret he hadn’t expected Dan or Bear to go telling Abbie either. “You’re welcome,” he said finally. “Thank _you_. Sometimes things are better left as friends.”

       “You’re right,” Abbie nodded. “Sometimes I wonder if…” she broke off. “Sorry, never mind. It’s nothing, just rambling from nerves I guess.”

        “Everything looks beautiful,” Phil said truthfully, changing the subject. None of the decorations were very elaborate, but there was a simplistic elegance that seemed fitting.

        “Thank you,” Abbie said. “Mum didn’t want me out here this close to the wedding but I wanted to make sure that everything was in its right place.”

         “And I came along to make sure she didn’t decapitate herself before she got a chance to get married,” Dan cut in smoothly. He met Phil’s eyes with a wary smile. “Hello Phil.”

          “Hey,” Phil mumbled, trying in vain to kill the blush that was currently spreading across his face. “How’re you?”

         “I’m doing well thank you for asking,” Dan said politely if somewhat coldly. “Yourself?”

         “I’m doing pretty good,” Phil shrugged uncomfortably.

         Abbie seemed to notice the tension, cutting in with a brief yet effective question. “Have you heard anything yet?”

        Dan maintained the eye contact with Phil for another moment before turning to Abbie. “No one’s heard from him today.”

        Abbie frowned, tugging at a strand of her hair with a concerned _un_ concerned expression. “He’ll be here,” she said finally. “You know Bear, he’s always running late.”

       “What’s wrong?” Phil asked, frowning.

       “The groom is missing at the moment,” Dan said. “No one’s heard from him since this morning.” At Phil’s alarmed expression, Dan continued speaking. “You know how he is. Abbie’s right. He’ll be here eventually.”

        And as Phil thought about it, he had to admit that no, he really didn’t know how Bear was. It was a little disturbing how little he actually knew about Bear. He had always been so good at evading Phil’s questions and redirecting the attention back to Phil that he didn’t even know his name. Although he supposed that the reasons for not knowing Bear’s name fell more to Phil.

      “Is there anything I can do to help?” Phil asked.

       Abbie shook her head. “I have to go get ready, but seeing as you and Dan ready are you can look after him.”

      “Am I looking after Dan or is he looking after me?” Phil asked.

      “Both, neither,” Abbie said with a smile as she slipped through the doors, leaving Dan and Phil staring at each other in a thin, sustained, and almost painful silence. Truthfully, he had missed Dan more than he cared to think. He’d missed his excessively long words and thoughtful demeanor, but above all else Phil missed his friend. He voiced this last thought aloud softly before thinking. “I’ve missed you.”

      “I’ve missed you too,” Dan said, a slightly warmer look in his eyes as he returned Phil’s statement. He cleared his throat. “You’re attractive, but I’m not quite so out of my mind that whenever I see you I have got resist the urge to ravish you.”

      Phil laughed, somehow feeling lighter than he had in ages. “I think I need a friend a lot more than I do a boyfriend right now.”

      “For someone who writes about relationships as a job I have to say that sometimes relationships are slightly overrated,” Dan said. “You’re not _that_ irresistible you know.”

     “Thanks,” Phil rolled his eyes, trying to hide his smile. “We’re supposed to be attending this wedding together anyway, and you’ve already agreed so it’s too late to back out now.”

     “I would never dream of backing out,” Dan said. “Unless you want me to…”

     “If I wanted to ditch you I wouldn’t go to all this effort of being friends again,” Phil said lightly. “I have missed you, you know. And I’m not just saying that. It’s just that I’m not ready to be in a relationship right now, even though you’re one of the loveliest people I’ve ever met.”

      Dan nodded thoughtfully. “In the long run I think I’d rather be friends anyway.”

      Phil smiled. “I think I would too,” he said, and for once the statement was completely and utterly sincere.

 

…

 

      It was half an hour until the wedding and the gathered people were in a state of mass panic. Daisy and Liam had just arrived, and Phil had managed to slip through the crowd unnoticed enough to exchange pleasantries before retreating back to Abbie and the others. Going out in public that close to the wedding was probably frowned upon on several levels, but by now Phil was beyond caring. What was life without a little risk anyway?

      That was a thought Phil never imagined he’d ever catch himself thinking. At least not before he’d met Bear anyway.

     The assembled people were alternating between checking the time obsessively, comforting each other, checking their phones repetitively, and running in and out of the room. Abbie’s thinly veiled worriment from earlier had escalated, and as Phil glanced around at everyone else he could tell that she wasn’t the only one who was stressed. Bear was nowhere to be seen.

      Abbie’s mother, a graying woman with bright blue eyes, came to a skidding halt in front of the group. “I still can’t fine Dan,” she said desperately. “Does anyone have any idea where he might be?”

     “Dan?” Phil repeated, brow furrowing. “He’s right there.” He jerked his chin towards the left, where Dan was talking quietly into his phone.

     “Dan _Howell_ ,” the woman said obviously, as though Phil was an idiot.

     At Phil’s continued look of confusion, Abbie spoke up. “She means Bear. Daniel James Howell is his given name, but once you started calling him Bear it stuck. It was getting confusing having two Dan’s around anyway.”  Phil choked. “Did he not tell you his name?” she asked, frowning.

      Phil shook his head mutely, the air suffocating him even as he inhaled it. _Daniel James Howell. Dan Howell. Dan._ He sucked in another breath of air, feeling like somehow it wasn’t reaching his lungs no matter how many breaths he took. He blinked a few times, shaking his head as though that would somehow clear away the words running circles in his mind. Phil forced himself to inhale slowly, the frantic voices of everyone else in the room blurring out of focus.

       _Daniel James Howell. Dan Howell. Dan._ He knew Bear’s name, but they’d managed to go this far without an introduction so it didn’t matter, right? Somehow Phil couldn’t quite make himself believe it, but he pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind as best as he could.

      “He’s not anywhere inside,” Abbie’s mother fretted. “And it’s supposed to _rain_ and–”

      “I’ll go look outside,” Phil interjected. Then, before anyone could object, “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He pushed the doors open with his shoulder, stumbling down the stairs and onto the pavement. He glanced around but Bear was nowhere to be seen.

      Phil rounded the left of the building, checking his phone as he did. Twenty minutes to. Painfully aware of the time crunch, he ran a full circle around the church and resurfaced empty handed. Biting his lip, he came to a stop behind the church. Phil straightened his spine, craning his neck as he spotted a vaguely humanoid figure laying in the grass.

        Phil settled next to Bear, mimicking his position and laying on his back. He glanced at Bear, who refused to look back at him. _Daniel James Howell. Dan Howell. Dan._ If he had been forced to pick a name for Bear based on looks it probably would’ve been Dan. The name suited him, and all that remained was for Phil to tell Dan his name and avoid the words on his wrist.

        “Everyone’s looking for you,” Phil said quietly. Bear gave a noncommittal grunt. “You’re getting married in less than twenty minutes.”

         “No I’m not,” Bear said. There was a stubborn edge to his voice that reminded Phil of a child almost, except that there was a noticeable difference between refusal to go to a timeout and refusal to go to his own wedding.

      “Dan, you have to go to your wedding.” The name slipped off of Phil’s tongue without a second thought. It felt strange, foreign.

     “Not if I don’t give a fucking fuck anymore,” Bear said vehemently. “I’m not getting married _Phil._ ” He emphasized Phil’s name unnecessarily.

       Phil froze. “How do you know–”

      “You seemed to want to stick with Cat and Bear so I didn’t see much point in bringing it up. I dropped a few hints every now and then but you never commented on it. I asked Zack a while back. I like Phil though. It suits you.”

        Phil allowed himself momentary shock before returning to the more pressing issue. “Cold feet?”

        “Not exactly,” Bear grimaced. “I’m bisexual,” he said bluntly. “And my parents aren’t very accepting of that kind of thing. Bi-erasure is bad enough as it is, and they decided that it was ‘just a phase’ I’d grow out of eventually if I just _chose_ to like girls. They decided that law school, a wife, and a few kids someday made the most sense and I was too scared to say anything against it. I never wanted a relationship with Abbie anything beyond friendship, especially when I’m in love with someone else.”

       “And who’s that?”

       Bear rolled his eyes. “You know who I’m talking about.” He raised an eyebrow meaningfully, gaze devoid of any humor.

      “He must be a pretty special guy,” Phil joked feebly.

      “His humility is astounding as well,” Bear answered dryly.

      “I happen to be quite close to the man in question,” Phil said. “He says that he thinks love is this complicated mess that sometimes might be more trouble than it’s worth. He doesn’t know anything about love, least of all _how_ to love someone properly because he’s too scared most of the time. But he says that if he _does_ know anything about love, it’s that he’s in love with you too.”

      Bear smiled, sliding his hand across the grass where it slipped into Phil’s. Their fingers linked and Phil heard him exhale. “I think I might be a little bit in love with you Cat.”

     “I’m glad, because I think I might be a little bit in love with you too Bear.” Regardless of how much Bear’s name might fit him, there would always be a part of Phil that thought of him as Bear. The two lay in silence for a minute, an alert from Phil’s phone breaking the quiet. With his free hand he pulled his phone out of his pocket, reading the message.

      _From Dan:_

_Did you find him?_

       Dan’s text effectively jolting him back to reality, he turned his head enough to look at Bear. “What are you going to about it?”

      “I don’t know,” Bear sighed. “I’ll have to talk to Abbie I guess. I like Abbie well enough, and I thought I could go along enough to make everyone happy.”

       “Except you.” Phil didn’t state it as a question, and Bear didn’t take it as such. “If we’re confessing secrets then I have something to tell you too,” Phil said. He was painfully aware that they were running out of time, but he might as well get it all out. “I know what your words are.”

        Bear was still. “For how long?”

       “It was while you were in the hospital,” Phil said. “Your sleeve rode up and…” he trailed off, figuring that further details weren’t necessary. There was something in Bear’s eyes that was unsaid but a mutual understanding that no hard feelings were there to be held.

       “At least it saved me the trouble of telling you myself,” Bear shrugged.

        Phil gave him a surprised look. “You’re not upset?”

       “A little,” Bear admitted. “But after you telling me that you’re maybe in love with me too I can’t be bothered frankly.”

       “I promise that no matter what happens or however many fights we get into I’ll never say those words to you,” Phil said firmly. He supposed that if he never ended up saying Bear’s words that meant that he wasn’t Bear’s soulmate, but he and Bear had managed to learn each other’s names without Phil’s words becoming true and if Bear wasn’t Phil’s soulmate than he didn’t want one.

      “I know,” Bear said. “I trust you.”

      Phil’s phone went off again, thoroughly cutting into any further attempts at conversation. He didn’t need to look to know that Dan was asking what the holdup was. “We should probably go back,” he said. “Everyone’s worried.”

       “I’m sure they are,” Bear said sarcastically. “We’ll go in just a minute.” He tugged gently on Phil’s hand, turning to meet lock eyes with Phil.

      The unspoken acknowledgement was still there, that in one way or another things were going to change. Bear raised an eyebrow as Phil smiled, correctly interpreting his silent question. He reoriented himself until his lips were hovering about Bear’s and rested his weight on his elbows, gently titling his head as his lips collided with Bear’s. Bear’s arms loped loosely around as his neck as his fingers tangled in Phil’s hair, pulling him closer. The kisses were quick and gentle, with the ease that only comes from knowing that for once all that’s left to do is enjoy the time that’s given to you.

       Phil pulled away, smiling briefly against Bear’s lips before moving far enough away to speak. “Thank you.”

       “For what?”

       “I used to be scared of everything,” Phil said quietly. “If we’re being honest, there’s still a lot that I wish I wasn’t afraid of. But it was the paralyzing kind of fear that made me terrified to do anything except wake up in the morning, finish my shift at _Ink and Quill,_ and return home. Occasionally I’d go out for groceries and every now and then for something with Daisy and Liam, but that was it.”

       “And are you still?” Bear asked.

      “No,” Phil said truthfully. “Not anymore. I’ve learned that surviving through fear isn’t the same as living, and while I’m still afraid that’s okay because everyone is scared of something and I’ve managed to overcome my greatest fear. That’s mostly because of you by the way,” he concluded slightly awkwardly, feeling himself flush as he coughed. “Thank you for everything you’ve done.”

      “I might have helped you, but you’ve helped me more than you’ll ever know,” Bear said. “I don’t know where I’d be right now if it wasn’t for you. I’d probably be dead, but worse off certainly.” His words were frank, and there was a calm intensity to his expression that eased any rising fears.

      “I don’t feel like that anymore, but whenever I was having an existential crisis or needed a friend or someone to talk to you were always there. I would’ve lost my mind a long time ago if it hadn’t been for you, and if we’re being pretentious and talking about what we’ve ‘learned’ than I guess it’s that in the end you’re going to have to be the one to cope with whatever decisions you make and that in the long run it’s better to be face the punishment of the truth than live the false rewards of a lie. So thank you Cat.”

      “We’re all a mess aren’t we?” Phil laughed, although it fell flat. He had always thought that he was the fucked up one with the phobias and anxiety when in reality everyone was fucked up in their own way.

     “We are,” Bear said. “And that’s okay, because the only thing we can do is try to fix each other with each individual broken piece until they fit.”

     “We’re just a bunch of fucking pretentious, broken, messes.” Phil smiled, his words lacking their bite. “Maybe that’s the point of the soulmates system and the words,” he continued thoughtfully. “I’ve always wondered what their purpose is, because it does a lot of good if the moment you realize your soulmate is who they are they die.”

      “I know the feeling,” Bear mumbled. “I’ve always wondered the same thing.”

      “But maybe that’s the point. You _don’t_ know who they are until it’s time to say goodbye, and as a result depending on what your words are and who your soulmate is you can spend the entirety of your life wandering around in fear of an event that might not even happen. For all you know your soulmate could be the woman who served you at the grocery store last week, or the waiter at the restaurant you ate at yesterday. You don’t know until it’s too late and you live every day in this suspension of fear that every word could be your last.”

      “And that’s comforting how exactly?”

      “Granted, the system is still incredibly flawed; but to answer your question of how it’s comforting surviving is the easy part. It’s living that that’s the hard part. You have to drag yourself out of bed every morning knowing that the same fears as before are there, sometimes even stronger. But it’s only by overcoming those fears that we become stronger and braver than we were before and begin to live.”

     Whether what he had just said was actually the purpose for the words Phil didn’t know. Sometimes there aren’t answers for everything, and maybe that’s okay and fine and nothing more than the way the world works. All he did know was that he was tired of surviving. It was time to start living.

      “I never thought of it that way,” Bear said. “Then again, there were a lot of things that I tried not to think about. Run and keep running, that’s always been my philosophy. I’m just glad that it was _Ink and Quill_ I chose to run to, although I do feel a little cheated to be honest.”

      “Really, and why’s that?”

      “We never had a proper introduction,” Bear shrugged. “Bit unconventional, don’t you think?”

      “Then again, we’re fairly unconventional people,” Phil said.

      “So I know your first name, but what’s your last? Phil…”

      “Phil Lester,” Phil said.

      “So _not_ Breado Lester then?” Bear ventured, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

       “I hate you,” Phil grumbled, rolling his eyes good naturedly.

      “No you don’t,” Bear said, still wearing that absurd smirk that Phil simultaneously loved and hated.

      “You’re the worst person in the world.” Phil gave up on trying to hide his grin. He probably looked stupider than he could ever imagine, but for once he felt completely free and utterly unafraid.

      Bear shrugged as if to say ‘guilty as charged.’ Brown eyes flickered over to meet Phil’s, a myriad of browns in an ever-shifting pattern of warmth and safety. “Nice to meet you, Phil Lester. My name is Dan.”

 

…

 

_I see you lying next to me_

_With words I thought I’d never speak_

_Awake and unafraid,_

_Asleep or dead!_

_I am not afraid to keep on living_

_I am not afraid to walk this world alone_

_Honey, if you stay, you’ll be forgiven_

_Nothing you can say can stop me going home_

* * *

 


	21. Epilogue

     The sound of his footsteps echoed in the otherwise deserted area. Leaves crunched underfoot as he stared down at the ground, partly to ensure that he didn’t trip and partly because the alternative carried the risk of making eye contact.

      For the first time this week, the sun decided to peak through the clouds. There was a slight breeze in the air, sending a small scattering of leaves onto the figure below. A medley of wild flowers were clutched in his hand, brilliant colors further illuminated by the sunlight.

      “We had a lot of fun, didn’t we?” the question was addressed at large, and the response was a stony silence that he supposed was only to be accepted. “I’ll always have a soft spot for the Muse concert, but I still have your notes somewhere in my flat.”

      He lowered himself to the ground, tucking his knees up to his chest and gently sitting the flowers on his lap. He’d brought them as a sort of peace offering and apology. “I brought these for you,” he said quietly. “I couldn’t decide so I got one of each.” He took a deep breath as if to steel himself. “I thought you might like them, Do you remember the time when we went to that flower garden and you started sneezing because you were allergic to the pollen? I didn’t think this one through very well did I? Oops.”

      He gave a slightly sheepish smile, shrugging his shoulders with an abrupt motion. “Hopefully you won’t die, I’ll make sure to have 999 dialed just in case. I’ve decided that I don’t care what the reasoning is supposed to be for the soulmate system, I still don’t agree with it no matter how important it might be.”

      A laugh edging on bitter broke the air, and he blinked as if to try and shake the mood. “That doesn’t exactly fit with the whole trying to make peace with everything mindset, but an essential part of life is complaining too. I wish…” he trailed off, biting his lip. “Never mind. It’s just that sometimes I can’t help but think about everything that I could’ve done differently or that I wish I had done differently because then maybe I wouldn’t have gotten myself into this mess.”

      He closed his eyes, resisting the urge to shiver. The breeze had picked up, the leaves falling faster and more persistently. He gently pulled one of the flowers out of the bouquet, twirling the stem between his fingers, the white petals of the flower blurring together as he spun it faster and faster. His eyes popped open and he slid the flower back with the other ones, a slight frown on his face.

      “I did though,” he continued with a grimace. “There’s nothing I can do to change that now, and I’m sorry. Even if you did give me another chance I could never forgive myself. There’s nothing I can ever do to convince myself that I’ll ever make it up to you. I want you to know that I love you regardless of what happens, and I hope that you know that regardless of how shit I might be at showing it. The thing is, I was fine before I met you. Life was great, really.” His tone couldn’t even convince himself.

     “Sometimes there are people that even though you might’ve been getting along fine without them and they screw everything up once they arrive, they do it in a way that you can’t help but be thankful that they did. Truth is that I’m still not ready to say goodbye to you, and I don’t think I ever will be. You were always stronger than I was, even though you’re…dead,” he swallowed, rushing through the words. “But maybe that’s always been the issue.”

       He staggered to his feet, smiling slightly. “I love you,” he said softly. “I’m sorry.”

 

…

 

     Another gravestone joined the first by the end of the next week. Flowers lay in front of both of the stones, the bouquet from earlier still sitting in front of the original marker. The flowers had completely wilted, the colors bleached and drained. The leaves were still falling even as the final visitor closed the gates of the cemetery behind them.

     Tradition decreed that a person’s words be inscribed on their gravestones, as they lived and died by the words. The fate of the words was inescapable, and in the end it was only a matter of time. Some things were impossible to change, and in the end the inevitability of the predetermined crushes anyone human enough to notice.

     Cat and Bear had known that better than anyone perhaps, but the only option they’d seen was to try. Because dying by the words didn’t mean that they had to live by them. Their tombstones lay side by side in the back of the old graveyard, new and glistening. A smile wrapped within a sigh seemed to slip through the trees, out the gate, and into the air outside.

     The writing on the gravestones was easy enough to read, but any remainders could be found not in the inscription but scattered in the notes stashed in the lounge, or in the coat still hung on the coat hanger in _Ink and Quill,_ or in _The Hobbit_ laying on the bedside table. Because dying by something didn’t mean you had to let it consume you.

     One stone read: _You’re the worst person in the world._

     The other read: _Nice to meet you, Phil Lester. My name is Dan._


	22. Alternate Ending

   85% of the population believed in soulmates.

   The statistics were up 10% from the previous year, and 15% from the year before. While there were still those who fought against the system and rallied to make their own fates ultimately the truth was inevitable; everyone was fucked and there was nothing you could do about it.

    When he little and before he’d learned to read Phil had always liked the idea of soulmates. He was a romantic at heart, and many of the games at school involved playing house and pretending to come home to your soulmate each day. Of course, once he was old enough to understand the implications of his words that had all changed.

    It was impossible for him not to believe in soulmates, but as he pulled up to the church where Bear and Abbie were getting married he wondered if he would ever find his. It’d be an ironic twist of fate to make him worry about meeting his soulmate all his life only never to.

    The doors of the church swung open under his hands, his shoes clicking on the floorboards beneath him. The pews were almost completely filled with people, the low buzz of conversation a hum in Phil’s ears that restricted his breathing and made his hands shake. Dan was sitting near the front of the room, phone in hand and head bent. Phil resisted the urge to duck behind a pew of his own. While he and Dan hadn’t parted on _unfriendly_ terms they hadn’t been especially friendly either.

    He tapped Abbie on the shoulder, offering a smile that he hoped came off as supportive and confident instead of the pained grimace he suspected it was. She flinched, a hand flying to her heart.

    “Hi Cat! You scared me, sorry,” she said breathlessly, laughing. “How are you? I’m glad you found the church okay.”

    “I’m good,” Phil said. He resisted the urge to shove his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels awkwardly. He could feel Dan’s eyes boring into the back of his neck, and he shifted uncomfortably. After deciding to go to the wedding together as purely platonic bros, Dan had told him he’d meet up with Phil at the wedding as he’d promised Abbie he’d be there extra early to help set everything up. They hadn’t talked since then, and the cowardly part of him was dreading the conversation.

  
    Abbie was still talking; something about what happened after the wedding and Phil frowned, firmly telling himself to get it together as he tried to listen.

  
    “Does that make any sense?” Abbie asked, biting her lip nervously. She seemed a little high strung, which Phil supposed was only to be expected.

  
    “Yeah,” Phil nodded, thinking that he couldn’t possibly be even more lost than he was at the moment. Another reason to talk to Dan, then. “Perfect sense, thanks.”

  
    “Thank you for everything that you’ve done to help,” Abbie said with a slightly distracted smile. “For both myself and Bear. You’ve stuck around through a lot of crap and I’m sorry that things didn’t work out with Dan.”

  
    Phil coughed self-consciously, clearing his throat. While he hadn’t necessarily wanted to keep his and Dan’s breakup a secret he hadn’t expected Dan or Bear to go telling Abbie either. “You’re welcome,” he said finally. “And thank you. Sometimes things are better left as friends.”

  
    “You’re right,” Abbie nodded. “Sometimes I wonder if…” she broke off. “Sorry, never mind. It’s nothing, just rambling from nerves I guess.”

   Phil frowned. “That didn’t sound like nothing to me. What’s wrong, Abbie?”

   She sighed, expression tightening. Her fingers tapped against the table, “Did Bear ever tell you how we got engaged?”

    “No.”

    “Our families are old friends and we’ve pretty much grown up together. We’ve been through a lot. He’s my best friend and I know I’m his, but that doesn’t mean we make a good couple–or that we _want_ to make a good couple.”

    Phil’s forehead creased as he puzzled over her words. He didn’t want to leap to conclusions but despite himself he couldn’t help but feel a spark of optimism. “Sorry, what are you saying?”

    Abbie made a face, running a hand through her hair. Her fingers caught at a strand of hair, messing up her previously immaculate bun but she didn’t seem to care. “You could say that our ‘hearts’ have never really belonged to each other in that way, despite every attempt by our parents to make them.”

   “Why get married then?” Phil asked. Aside from his personal biases, he was genuinely curious as to why Bear and Abbie would agree to something that made them so unhappy.

    “Bear didn’t want to study law either, but…” Abbie shrugged helplessly. “I take it you haven’t met his parents yet. They’re quite– _determined_ that they know what’s best for him and after he came out as bi I was the obvious choice for a partner.”

   Something tightened inside Phil at the thought of Bear’s parents being so biphobic they’d force him and Abbie into marriage. His parents had been perfectly accepting when he’d come out, and he couldn’t imagine what he would feel like if they’d had an adverse reaction instead. Without thinking, his hand reached out and covered Abbie’s. She laced her fingers with his, an innocent gesture that communicated thousands of words left unsaid. He squeezed her hand, and the ghost of a smile brushed her lips.

   “Go,” she said gently, releasing his hand and nudging him backwards. “Talk to Dan. I can tell you have something on your mind.”

    Phil lingered, hesitant. “What about you? Are you going to be okay?”

   Abbie tried for a confident smile, but her expression fell flat. “I’ll be fine. I always am.”

    “You deserve better than fine,” Phil said quietly, conviction steadying his voice. “I know it’s probably not my place but if I can do anything to help please let me know.” There was an unreadable expression on Abbie’s face, and her eyes narrowed slightly. Phil shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other and then back again, the silence crushing. He swallowed, hands fisting in his shirt.

    “If I ask you something, promise me you’ll answer truthfully?”

    “Of course,” Phil said automatically. It was the least he could do, after all.

    “Are you and Bear having an affair?”

    Phil choked on his own spit. “I’m sorry?”he managed.

    Abbie’s gaze was calm but unforgiving. “Are you and Bear having an affair?” she repeated.

    “No.” Phil hesitated, the truth lingering on his tongue; bitter and guilty. It had been months since he and Bear had ended things, but it was obvious Bear had never told her. Not that he faulted him, but Phil had always been a pretty bad liar and if Abbie kept asking he wasn’t sure how convincing any lies would be.

     Would telling the truth finally be coming clean and a selfless act or was it still selfishness, an attempt to assuage his own guilt?

     “I’m not completely stupid,” Abbie said, her smile sad and a little bitter. “I can see the way you two are with each other. It’s the way we _should_ be–head over heels.” She exhaled shakily, running a hand over her face. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. It’s probably nerves. Bear’s made some comments about you guys in the past and for some reason I was never able to bring it up even though I know it’s just my own problems.”

    Abbie looked miserable, certainly nothing like a bride should look on her wedding day. Phil chewed on the inside of his cheek, and then the words came spilling out. “Wewereafewmonthsagobutwestoppedandi’msosorryididn’ttellyousoonerandthati’mtellingyouthisonyourweddingdayjesuschristi’mashittyexcuseforafriend.” Abbie stared at him, blinking. He took a deep breath, willing his heart to stop pounding. “I should’ve told you before now and I know ‘sorry’ isn’t nearly good enough but I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


    Silence.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


    “Who ended it?”

    “I did.”

    More silence. Abbie crossed her arms, expression unreadable. Phil swallowed, wiping his palms against his pants and trying not to have a heart attack.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


    “Did you cheat on Dan too?”

    “No. It ended before we started dating.”

     “Are you sure?”

    “ _Yes._ ”

    “I shouldn’t trust you.”

    “I know.”

    And just like that the silence breaks. It looks a little like Abbie does, too. “I wish I could say I was surprised, but I should’ve known. I guess I can’t really blame him, though.” At Phil’s expression she backpedaled slightly. “Don’t get me wrong–I’m still pissed, but he’s not the only one who wishes things were different.”

    “Do you–”

    She shook her head. “No, there’s no one right now but I don’t think I want there to be.”

    “What would you do if things were different?”

    She made a thoughtful humming noise, tapping her chin. “I’d like to travel. I’ve always wanted to go to New Zealand. You?”  
    “Sorry?” Phil asked, taken aback. Technically speaking he was free, but that didn’t mean he felt like it.

     “I think there’s something holding all of us back,” Abbie said. “If you could do anything who would you be?”

    Few people have ever asked Phil what he wanted to do, most of the time they made assumptions and he went along with them. “I don’t know,” he said finally. Almost thirty and he had never dedicated much thought to what it was _he_ really wanted. Maybe it was time for that to change. There was very little tying him to his life here, and maybe he would be happier elsewhere. “I like working in _Ink and Quill_ but when I was younger I always wanted to be a storyteller. I write sometimes, but I’ve never tried to take it anywhere.”

    “I’d buy your book.”

    He smiled. “Thanks.” He cast a glance at Abbie. “It doesn’t have to be a dream, you know.” He blinked, wrinkling his nose. “I know that’s rich coming from me, but if you really want to travel I think you should.”

    Abbie shot him an amused look bordering on cynical. “What, are you going to write a book all of the sudden?”  
    “Maybe,” he said, the answer surprising himself. “I guess there’s not much holding me here, is there?”

    She raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”

    Phil’s mind flashed to Bear, and from the knowing tilt to Abbie’s lips she knew what he was thinking. Still, maybe he and Bear weren’t as good for each other as they’d thought. “Maybe,” he repeated. “What do we have to lose?”

    “Nothing,” Abbie said, her voice dropping in volume. “I thought maybe we could make it work somehow, even if we weren’t in love. But it never got easier, and now it seems like it’s hurting more people than it’s helping. Secretly, I think part of me is glad you two fell in love. It makes it easier to end things and leave without feeling guilty.  Is that terrible?”  
    Phil laughed humorlessly. “You’re talking to the man who had an affair with your fiancee. I’m not sure I’m the best judge of morals.”

     Abbie rolled her eyes, swatting his arm. “You have a point.” Then, abruptly “Bear’s been missing since this morning, you and Dan should go look for him.” Before he could protest, she’d waved Dan over. At the look of utter betrayal she nudged him towards Dan with a trained air of indifference. “Think of it as karma.”

    “Can I assist you with anything?” Dan asked, polite as always. He was stiff, rigid and unmoving beside Phil.

     “If it’s not too much trouble, can the two of you look for Bear?” Abbie asked sweetly. “No one can seem to figure out where he’s gone and we have to get ready soon. Thanks!” She waltzed up the aisle without waiting for an answer, leaving Dan and Phil staring at each other in a sustained, almost painful silence. Truthfully, he had missed Dan more than he cared to think. He’d missed his excessively long words and thoughtful demeanor, but above all else Phil missed his friend. He voiced this last thought aloud softly before thinking. “I’ve missed you.”

    “I’ve missed you too,” Dan said, a slightly warmer look in his eyes as he returned Phil’s statement. He cleared his throat. “You’re attractive, but I’m not quite so out of my mind that whenever I see you I have got resist the urge to ravish you.”

     Phil laughed, somehow feeling lighter than he had in ages. “I think I need a friend a lot more than I do a boyfriend right now.”

    “For someone who writes about relationships as a job I have to say that sometimes relationships are slightly overrated,” Dan said. “You’re not _that_ irresistible you know.”

    “Thanks,” Phil rolled his eyes, trying to hide his smile. “We’re supposed to be attending this wedding together anyway, and you’ve already agreed so it’s too late to back out now.”

    “I would never dream of backing out,” Dan said. “Unless you want me to…”

    “If I wanted to ditch you I wouldn’t go to all this effort of being friends again,” Phil said lightly. “I have missed you, you know. And I’m not just saying that. It’s just that I’m not ready to be in a relationship right now, even though you’re one of the loveliest people I’ve ever met.”   

    Dan nodded thoughtfully. “In the long run I think I’d rather be friends anyway.”

     Phil smiled. “I think I would too,” he said, and for once the statement was completely and utterly sincere. “I’m sorry for leading you on.”

    “Don’t worry, I don’t regret the experience.” Dan smiled lightly. “I heard we have a groom to find. Do you want to split up?”

     Splitting up was usually how people got murdered or even more lost, but in this case time really was of the essence. “I’ll take outside,” Phil volunteered. “If neither of us have any luck I”ll meet you back here in fifteen minutes.” With a graceful nod Dan departed, leaving Phil to make his way outside. He rounded the back of the church, climbing up the hill and heading towards the woods. If he knew anything about Bear it was that he would flee as far from other humans as he possibly could.

    A dark figure was sprawled across the grass, jacket tucked underneath like a pillow. Phil came to a stop, taking in the familiar brown hair and chapped lips. “Bear.”

    The man’s eyes flew open, and he flinched. “Jesus Cat, warn someone before you give them a heart attack.”

     Phil didn’t smile. His fingers curled and uncurled, his clothes becoming too constricting under the pressure building behind his chest. Part of Phil, the part that was angry and frustrated and wanted to lash out with everything he had hated Bear. He hated him for being cowardly enough to hide outside instead of facing his problems head on, he hated him for never telling Abbie the truth, for lying, and for Phil feel like he wanted to kiss him as much as he wanted to punch him.

    “I talked to Abbie,” he said flatly. “She knows. About us and everything we did.”

    Bear bolted upright, horror flashing in his eyes. “ _What_?”

    “She asked me if we were having an affair and if we ever had and I couldn’t keep lying. I’m sorry.”

    “Don’t apologize, I should’ve said something a long time ago but…” Bear trailed off. “What did she say?”

     “She doesn’t want to get married either,” Phil answered shortly. “I think you should ask her the rest.”

    “You can’t bring something up like that and then stop. Come on Cat, what did she say? You can tell me.”

    “You’ll need to ask her yourself.”

    “Are you…are you _mad_ at me?” Bear asked, sounding amused. Phil’s glare deepened. “Why? I’m not angry with you.”

    Phil’s jaw tightened. Even now when things mattered the most they couldn’t manage to have a conversation. “Come inside.”

    “What? Why?”

    “You’re getting married in an hour.”

    Bear scoffed. “What, now you’re anxious for me to get hitched? Besides, I thought you said Abbie didn’t want to get married anymore”

    “Of course I’m not!” Phil said defensively. “But it doesn’t matter what I think. You and Abbie need to talk and come to a decision about what you’re going to do.”

    Bear stared at him incredulously. “Do you really not get it?” he asked, voice escalating in volume. “It’s _always_ been about you, ever since we first met.”

    “Maybe it shouldn’t be.” Phil was proud of the way his voice remained steady, resisting the overwhelming urge to slip his fingers between Bear’s. “I realized that for most of my life I’ve never allowed myself to think about what _I_ really want and I think you’re doing the same thing by trying to hide behind what everyone else expects.”

   “Not you.” Bear swallowed, eyes meeting Phil’s hesitantly. “You’ve only ever wanted me to be myself, even if I didn’t always like who that was. You’re right though, I should’ve told someone I didn’t want this–any of it and not given in. When I was younger I always wished I was brave enough to stand up to my parents and I thought that maybe I would be once I was an adult, but I guess I never will be.”

    “That’s not true. You don’t have to listen to what them anymore. No one has control over your future except for yourself.”

      Bear looked adrift, small and far away from his place beside Phil. His cheeks were drained of color, sleeplessness coloring the skin under his eyes. His voice was almost inaudible. “I don’t know what to do.”

    “Telling Abbie would be a good place to start.” Phil brushed Bear’s hair out of his eyes, his touch lingering. “She’ll be there to help. So will Dan.”

    “And you.”

    It hadn’t been phrased as a question but Phil voiced his agreement anyway, pulling Bear closer in a silent affirmation. “And me.”

    Bear rested his head on Phil’s shoulder, their legs intertwining. The air was quiet, in the sort of way early morning is in anticipation for the first birdsong. “I’m sorry.”

    “I’m sorry too.”

    “What are you going to do after all this is over?”

    “Write a book maybe. I’ve always wanted to go to Japan.”

     Bear looked vaguely alarmed. “You’re not staying here?”

     Phil shrugged. “There aren’t many things holding me here, and besides, it’s not like I won’t come back.” Bear’s expression continued to fall. “What did you have in mind?”

     “I’m going to start by changing my major,” he said firmly. “And getting a new roommate.” He coughed self-consciously. “After you get back from Japan you’re going to need somewhere to stay, right? Maybe we could live together? As friends,” he amended quickly. “At least for right now. I think I have a lot of things I need to figure out before starting a relationship.”

     Phil smiled. “I’d like that.” He bumped his knee against Bear’s. “Sometimes the best things take time.”

      “Like cheese,” Bear said teasingly. Phil shuddered, making a face. Bear’s face slid back into a more solemn expression. “Before we go back inside, can I ask you one more question?”

    “Anything.”

    “Now that we’re bearing our souls, can I finally tell you my name? It feels weird to know everything about each other except for that.”

    “Wait,” Phil said sharply, panic making everything sound harsher than he’d intended. He pulled out his phone, handing it to Bear. “Write it down.”

    Bear shot him a quizzical look. “What? Why?”

    Phil shook his head. “Please.” The man shrugged, holding the phone up a few seconds later. _:Dan Howell_ was written neatly across the screen, the blinking line next to it an accusation of all the things left unsaid.

    Phil stared at the screen, rereading it blankly. He held his breath, everything else going still. Bear was saying something, a hand reaching out to grip Phil’s shoulder, but the world had faded around him until the only thing left was an oppressive, crushing silence. He could hear someone laughing, a hysterical sound that grated on his nerves. He opened his mouth to tell them to shut up before realizing he was the one laughing.

    “ _Phil_ ,” Bear said urgently, gripping his shoulders. “Talk to me.”

     “How do you know what my name is?” he asked, the words heavy in his mouth.

     Bear bit his lip, cheeks flushing. “I may or may not have asked Zach a few months ago but you seemed to like Cat and Bear so I never brought it up. It suits you, though. What’s wrong?”

     Wordlessly, Phil yanked up his sleeve. The world was spinning around him, and he was afraid anything he tried to say would be just as unbalanced. Bear’s brow furrowed as he read the words silently, eyes widening in understanding. He moved to push up his own sleeve, but Phil shook his head.

    “I already saw,” he managed. “At the hospital. Your sleeve rode up and…” he trailed off, figuring that further details weren’t necessary. There was something in Bear’s eyes that was unsaid but a mutual understanding that no hard feelings were there to be held.

    “At least it saved me the trouble of telling you myself,” Bear shrugged.

    Phil gave him a surprised look. “You’re not upset?”

    “It’s not your fault.”

    “I promise that no matter what happens or however many fights we get into I’ll never say those words to you,” Phil said firmly. He supposed that if he never ended up saying Bear’s words that meant that he wasn’t Bear’s soulmate, but he and Bear had managed to learn each other’s names without Phil’s words becoming true and if Bear wasn’t Phil’s soulmate than he didn’t want one.

    “I know,” Bear said. “I trust you.”

    Phil’s phone went off, thoroughly cutting into any further attempts at conversation. He didn’t need to look to know that Dan was asking what the holdup was. “We should probably go back,” he said apologetically. “Everyone’s worried. But we have all the time in the world to finish.”

    Bear rose, holding out his hand and pulling Phil to his feet. “An eternity, really,” he said, a grin splitting his face. He knocked his forehead against Phil’s gently, eyes fluttering shut. Phil held his breath, hand pressing against Bear’s. “I can’t wait.”

* * *

    The sign on the door of _Ink and Quill_ was flipped to _closed,_ and with a long suffering sigh Phil collapsed into the chair across from Daisy. For once he wasn’t here an employee. Today he was Philip Michael Lester, author of _Wishful Windows_ who had just completed his first book signing. His agent had neglected to tell him exactly how draining these events could be, and with as little energy as one would expect from an introvert he was completely wiped out. All he wanted to do was stumble home and fall asleep, but it looked as though Daisy had other ideas.

    She regarded him over the top of her mug, a smirk flickering in her eyes. “So what’s all this about you and Bear? I saw you two had started dating?”

    Despite himself, Phil couldn’t help but smile. After Bear’s graduation (with a major in filmmaking) they had tentatively started the beginnings of a romantic relationship. They’d only gone on a few dates so far; basic events like the cinema and out to dinner but each ordinarily mundane event felt like an entirely new experience to Phil. “You’re not wrong.”

    “And? Is it everything you’ve dreamed of?”

    “More. Bear is…it’s nothing I ever thought I would have, you know?”

    “Liam and I need to up our game if we want to stay the cutest couple.”

     Phil rolled his eyes. “As if you ever stood a chance.”

     “Excuse me?”

     “I mean, sure you have the whole ‘childhood friends’ bit going for you but we started off with the passionate affairs and star crossed lovers.”

    “We’ll see which of us has the most fanfiction written about us,” Daisy said decisively. “That’ll settle matters.”

    Phil pouted. “That’s not fair. I know for a fact that Liam’s cousin wrote a _Hunger Games_ fanfiction with you in it.”

     “Liam killed me to save his own life,” Daisy said thoughtfully. “I think she was trying to tell me something, but I haven’t died yet.”

    “I bet there are tons of fics out there about me and Bear,” Phil said stubbornly. “You just haven’t found them yet.”

     “What would your ship name even be?”

     Despite calling his boyfriend ‘Bear’ 95% of the time, Dan was a much easier name to mash with his. “Dil?”

     “Danlip,” Daisy snorted into her drink. “It’s like a demented tulip.”

     Phil tucked his knees up to his chest, tapping his fingers against the sofa thoughtfully. “What about Phan?”

     “Phan,” she repeated slowly. “I like that. Besides, you can put it in front of words like fanfiction and it sounds exactly the same.”

     “It’s proof that we’re the ulterior ship.”

     “Pfsh. Please.”

     “At least admit that you ship it. I’ll make sure you have a front row seat at our wedding.”

    “You’re planning your wedding without me? I’m unfriending you on Facebook.”

     “I’ll let you help if you admit it.”

     Daisy sighed, smiling in good natured exasperation. “Fine. I ship Phan. It’s my number one OTP.” She leaned forwards inquisitively. “But back on the topic of a wedding. When is it and can I pick out the flowers?”

      Phil laughed. “We’re taking things slowly right now, but the moment there’s any need for flowers I’ll let you know.” He and Bear had agreed to wait at least two years before getting engaged, deciding that it was better for them to realize they weren’t compatible now then once they’d spent an arm and a leg on their wedding. Personally, Phil couldn’t imagine himself ever marrying anyone else. What they had hadn’t been easily created, but he was going to do everything he could to make it last.

* * *

     The gold of his wedding ring gleamed in the light from the fireplace. Dan sat beside him, a matching ring on his left hand. Though Phil still called him Bear sometimes, as the years had gone by and people had drifted in and out of their lives he preferred to go by his given name.

    “Can I ask you something?” Dan asked, tilting his head to look up at Phil. The firelight cast most of his face in shadow, brown eyes dark. Phil swore he got more beautiful each day. He nodded, hand brushing Dan’s forearm. “Does it ever bother you that we weren’t probably weren’t soulmates after all? That there was someone out there who was supposed to a ‘better fit.’”

    Phil traced his finger over Dan’s words, shaking his head. “Not anymore. I used to think about it, back in the early days; but in a hundred lifetimes you’ll always be my soulmate regardless of whatever some stupid tattoo says.”

    “The married life has turned you into a sap,” Dan said.

    “You love it.”

    “Yeah, I do. Not as much as I love you, though.”

    Phil rolled his eyes, shoving Dan with his shoulder. “Who’s the sap now? Abbie was telling me there’s a blood test you can take that will tell you if someone’s really your soulmate. If that’s something you’d be interesting in doing we can apply tomorrow.”

    “Do you want to?” Dan asked quietly.

    “Honestly? I did think about it, but no, not really. Maybe I’m being stupid but it doesn’t matter to me. Not now. Like I said earlier, you’re always going to be the only person I’d ever want to be with and I don’t care what anyone else says. But if you do, I would be just as willing.”

    “I’m glad you feel that way because I agree.” He blinked up at Phil, smiling sleepily. “I love you.”

     Phil wondered how it was possible for one person to love someone as much as he loved Dan. He was still going to be the death of him. “I love you too.” He stifled a yawn behind his hand, Dan mimicking the action a few moments later. “We should get to bed,” he said reluctantly.

    “I don’t want to,” Dan whined against his shoulder, visibly pouting. Phil wondered how someone could look so unbearably cute and undeniably hot at the same time. “Five more minutes.”

    Phil rested his cheek on the top of his husband’s head, closing his eyes. “Five more minutes,” he agreed.

      And if come morning the two were still asleep on the sofa, well, it wouldn’t be the first time. After all, they had all the time in the world.


End file.
